


Heartbeat

by PotatoPIerrot



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, oh my god the pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-01-20 15:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21283688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotatoPIerrot/pseuds/PotatoPIerrot
Summary: Lio turns himself in after the final battle, the start of a new life he must get used to.This is a story of how Lio Fotia navigates through the days that follow, learns that support comes in more forms than he's ever familiar with, and deals with his alarmingly developing feelings for Galo Thymos.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 125
Kudos: 717





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> yall can't believe how long it took me to come up with that summary holy sh!t
> 
> but yeah!!! a galolio multichapter!!!!!! i got too excited to work on it so here i am hhh  
ive had some pretty neat scenes and lines thought out and i was honestly in a dilemma choosing between using them for a post canon or reverse au fic?? but then i saw the movie and wanted more so here i am laddies!!! ready to absolutely murder myself with the slowburn lmao
> 
> the prologue is a little on the descriptive side and diverges from the movie ending a bit because i wanted to set the mood for the fic and all so i hope that's okay,,,,
> 
> and now with all that out of my system, happy reading!

The first thing that sets in is the silence.

The voices that’s been chattering in his head since as far back as he could remember, the voices that screamed, _demanded _to burn burn _burn_—are gone. The sun is rising. Lio’s ears are still ringing from the explosions of the battle. He still hasn’t registered the foreignness of the cool breeze against his bare skin.

It's... quiet.

“Lio.”

He turns, meeting eyes with the man whom he’d just saved and set the world on fire with. Bruised and battered but still standing tall and proud, though a little mellowed out at the moment. Lio figures even Galo would be drained after that intense ordeal of piloting giant robots, screaming, and punching two-faced hero figures.

“Yeah?”

“What do you plan to do after this?” Galo’s voice lacks the needless energy and passion it always seemed to carry. It's instead level, laced with genuine concern. Lio averts his gaze towards the yellow-tinted sky, hugging his elbows as the cold begins to sink in.

“What about you, Galo Thymos?”

He breathes, basking in this short moment of peace for just a while longer. The ringing in his ears gradually subside; he can hear sirens in the distance, the buzz of aircrafts racing towards their location. His heart, once on the verge of stopping completely, beats in a steady rhythm.

“What I’ve been doing all along,” Galo answers, “rescuing people in need.”

Part of Lio can’t help envying his simplistic viewpoint. Part of him envies that Galo still has something so normal to return to, a world that doesn’t have to change as drastically as his own. Lio honestly doesn’t want to think about what future awaits him, but he knows he must. For the sake of all the Burnish he’d tried and failed to save from Kray Foresight’s grasp.

“You haven’t answered my question,” Galo prompts, and Lio feels himself smiling without mirth at the realization that dawns him.

He's afraid. He's so _afraid_, for once, of what could, and what’s going to happen from now on.

“I—” Even admitting it brings a tremor to his hands, and he digs his fingertips into the flesh of his arms. “I don’t _know_.”

He forces his mind to work through his exhaustion. The sirens sound much closer. Lio has to make a choice, has to weigh his options. His people still need him.

“Well for starters, why don’t we help get the Burnish out of the rubble while backup’s on the way?” Galo pats his back in assurance, albeit with enough force to make him stumble a step forward. He’s quick to apologize for it, but Lio doesn’t really mind. He appreciates the effort Galo seems to be making to put him at ease.

It’s truly comforting to be reminded that he’s still got someone to rely on, despite everything.

Lio scarcely flinches when multiple spotlights are trained on him, his hair whipping all over his face from the gale produced by aircraft rotor blades. Galo immediately moves to place himself between Lio and the forces arriving to arrest him, probably all set to argue in his defense. Lio tugs him aside by his wrist, having come to a decision.

“I’ll leave my brothers and sisters to you,” he says, only able to hope that his voice isn’t lost to the wind. He catches one last glimpse of Galo, wide-eyed and confused, before he turns himself in.

Lio Fotia, despite having been part of the pair that had saved Earth from imploding, surrenders himself without fuss. It is his way of taking responsibility for the destruction he’d caused during—and even before—his rampage through Promepolis. It is also so that the rest of the Burnish, now people just like everyone else with their flames lost, would not be punished for crimes they did not commit. Lio had been the one to give orders, the one who had led all those acts of arson in the city. Those who weren’t part of Mad Burnish had only been trying to live peacefully without being captured. Those who _were_ part of Mad Burnish had merely been following him out of blind obligation.

Lio is eventually trialed at court, under a law he still despises but have no choice to abide to. He’s prepared for a heavy punishment—lifelong confinement or even death, perhaps—so he’s genuinely surprised when he’s instead sentenced to several years of community service while kept under strict surveillance. He hears later that it’s because the members of Burning Rescue had appealed on his behalf, insisting that without him, the Promare would’ve gone haywire during Kray Foresight’s insane operation and destroyed the entire planet. They’d argued that the atrocities carried out by the Foresight Foundation far outweighs Lio’s actions in scale and consequence, and that Mad Burnish had mainly been only retaliating against what the government started. Testimonies provided by scientists and researchers who’d worked with the Foundation had added weight to their claims, and the decision is finalized after weeks of deliberation.

Lio Fotia is charged with arson and mass destruction of public property, but not for killing people.

True to Galo’s word, the former Burnish were rescued from the rubble of the Parnassus engine as soon as reinforcements arrived at the scene. Lio’s informed that most of them only carried light injuries; it’s likely that the final blaze by the Promare had healed most physical damages caused by the generators. Even so, there were still quite a number of them who had had limbs, even organs burnt away that couldn’t be recovered. Some hadn’t been able to survive. Those who were still hanging on have been sent to receive immediate medical attention, though at present it is uncertain if they could be treated with existing means.

Everyone else, on the other hand, have been brought to shelters to settle down while society and the government worked to right themselves after all that’s happened.

Lio is sentenced to stay in a detention facility, a tracker surgically implanted into his ankle to monitor his movements at all times. He isn’t allowed to meet the former Burnish, much less check on how they are faring. The first day of his new life begins with him waking at the crack of dawn, heading down hallways while fighting the urge to brawl with inmates who can’t keep their excessive obscene comments and gestures to themselves, and almost freezing to death when he takes his first shower in what feels like forever.

He's then clad in a jumpsuit that’s just a bit too loose over his frame, and given a serving of dry sandwiches and milk as breakfast. He’s later escorted into a vehicle where he joins a group of other inmates who barely make any eye contact (already miles more civilized than those who’d greeted him in the hallway, he thinks), and they’re taken to a site that seems to be just recently cleared of the remnants of destruction. Their community service turns out to involve helping rebuild and reconstruct places that have been wrecked during the latest battle.

Lio gets to work with a blank mind, at this point too tired to listen to his own thoughts and the occasional backhanded comments about him and the Burnish uttered by the people around him who seem to have too much energy to spare. The intense labor keeps him occupied enough for the hours to pass at a decent speed, and by the time he realizes it, his whole body is aching, the sun is setting, and he’s ordered to stop and return to the detention center.

Lio spots the flashy blue hair first from the corner of his eye as he makes his way back to the van waiting for them. He turns, and, in another moment of unexpected synchronicity, their gazes meet.

And the first day of Lio’s new life ends with a wave and a bright smile from Galo Thymos.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i realize now that with the pacing the timeskips there's going to be i couldve just made this a monster oneshot instead hhh  
but anyways!! here's a new chapter!! i also want to let yall to know that updates might gradually slow down because i'll be starting a new job soon and idk what kind of progress id be able to make writing with all the changes going on OTL thank you in advance for your patience;;;
> 
> and of course, thank you all so much for the reception of the prologue as well!! i hope the rest of the fic will be worth the time!

Galo’s there almost every evening, always ready to greet him a good day’s work with a grin and a wave from afar.

Lio’s understandably confused at first. The heck is that idiot even _doing?_ He’s sure the Burning Rescue headquarters are on the other side of town. And doesn’t he have his own work to attend to? Why does he bother showing up every day without fail just to let Lio catch a glance of him before he has to return to the detention center?

“I’m just worried you’d be lonely or something,” Galo admits when Lio asks during his first actual authorized visit. “Y’know, with you suddenly having to be locked up and kept away from your pals like that.”

“I was prepared for all this when I turned myself in, Galo,” Lio assures, though he can’t deny feeling an ember of warmth in his chest from Galo’s concern. It's pleasant; it isn’t something he gets to experience often lately.

It’s been...dull, in more ways than one. Lio’s days are monotonous, following the same sequence of events each day with only variations in the tasks he’s assigned to in between. He's slowly getting used to hearing only his own voice in his head, to the unrelenting cold that’s settled in his being in place of his flames. On some days he’d still miss the companionship of the Burnish, the sense of belonging he’d unintentionally grown so attached to. He misses the freedom most of all, the sense of independence that came with being able to do virtually anything he wanted.

He’s resolved to bear these invisible shackles. He knows. It is his decision and he’s resolved to go through with it until the very end. It's not easy and he’d been fully aware of that.

“But still.” Galo frowns, crossing his arms as he leans back against the chair that seems almost comically too small for him. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

_“How sweet,”_ Lio teases, prompting Galo to stutter some other excuse about Gueira and the kids always pestering him to go check on their dear Boss and some other nonsense. He smiles, leaning forward and resting his chin on his palm. “And? Mind telling me how _you’re_ doing? Though I suppose we don’t really have much time left for a lot of details.”

“Well it’s—_huh?_” Galo blinks. “You’re asking about _me?_”

“I’ve seen enough on the news to get an idea on what’s going on with the former Burnish.” Lio shrugs. “Professor Ardebit and her team are about to get that equality bill passed, aren’t they?”

“Oh, yeah. I heard they’ve been working super hard at it, too.” Galo’s eyes brighten as he goes on. “Did’ya also hear? They’ve found a way to stop those decay-like symptoms that some of the Burnish were left with from the generator! They just need do some final tests and soon those who had it bad could just get some prosthetics and be good as new!”

“That’s... amazing,” Lio marvels, genuinely awed by how much attention and support is given to his people. It's a comforting reminder that not everyone shares the same, frigid mindset of Burnish being monsters. It makes his isolation from the rest a little easier to bear. “That really is amazing.”

“Ain’t it!!” Galo’s quickly shushed when he accidentally raises his voice in his excitement. “Man, smart people who do good sure deserve all the respect.”

“They do,” Lio agrees, wholeheartedly. Those are all feats he knows he’d never be able to achieve all by himself. “But enough about that. I’m still curious to know how you’re finding the time to keep coming all the way here every evening, Galo Thymos.”

“I mean, Burning Rescue _was _formed to contain Burnish activity in the city,” Galo looks away and drags his syllables, in his own attempt for delicacy. “With the Promare gone...”

“Even the young hero of Promepolis can take it easy for a bit,” Lio finishes for him, only belatedly hoping he didn’t sound bitter because really, he isn’t. He doesn’t regret what he’s done as part of Mad Burnish, nor does he deny having deliberately carried out his actions in the past. These are simply the consequences he must now face.

His statement doesn’t sit well with Galo, though for a reason that doesn’t have to do with how he’d come across while uttering it. Galo stares at him, eyebrows knitted with...disapproval? Lio isn’t quite certain.

“You’re one too, Lio.”

Galo's words are quiet. Weighty.

“I don’t care what everyone thinks—Earth wouldn’t have been saved without you. If I'm a hero, then you're just as much of one too, Lio.”

“You don’t know the extent of what I've done as Mad Burnish, Galo,” Lio says calmly, though he finds trouble in holding Galo’s gaze. “I don’t deserve to be called that.”

“You fought for the sake of your kind who were badly oppressed. That sounds noble enough to me,” Galo insists. “And if anyone tries to mess with you for that, they’ll have to face me and my blazing fury!”

It’s truly such a Galo thing to say. Lio can’t help letting out a little laugh. “You really can be naïve at times, Galo Thymos. You know damn well what kind of place this is.”

It instantly gets him all worked up. “Why!! Who's messing with you!! Who do I meet in the pit!!”

“You don’t have to know.” Lio waves dismissively. “Hell, I don’t need _you _punching idiots on my behalf.”

It's strange. Lio doesn’t think they’re even close enough to be considered proper friends yet; sure they piloted the Deus Ex Machina together and stopped the end of the world—but there’s still so much they don’t know about each other. Sure, they’d saved each other’s lives multiple times while they were at it—but they’d still became partners at random and have properly spoken to each other for maybe only two hours in total. Does that really qualify Lio to this much attention and concern from Galo? Lio has never actually understood how it works.

“Then why haven’t you done it yourself!!”

Lio understands that half of what Galo’s saying at this point is driven mostly by his agitation. Gueira can sometimes be a bit like that too, getting all worked up and not thinking his thoughts through before he speaks. He breathes, trying not to take his oversimplification to heart. Galo doesn’t mean it. He just doesn’t fully understand.

“I was Mad Burnish’s leader, Galo. Every single thing I do here is observed and recorded, and it could all reflect on my people in the end.” Lio rolls his ankle, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the tracker implanted within his flesh. “Even one small mistake could be blown up to serve a point. I do not wish to waste the effort that’s been made for our sake.”

His explanation dampens Galo quickly enough. “So you’re saying you’ll bear it. All alone.”

“I will.” Lio watches as the guard walks in to tell Galo his time is up. “This is what I can do for them right now.”

Galo lingers despite the guard’s orders, jaw set while he tries to process everything Lio just said. The fire doesn’t leave his eyes even as he gives up on the argument Lio’s sure he’s thought about voicing.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Lio,” is all he says before he leaves. Lio remains seated for a minute or two longer, ears aching from the silence or the plunge of adrenaline, he isn’t sure.

He really hadn't expected Galo to leave such a huge sense of absence behind him.

**xXx**

On weekends, Lio attends classes.

They’re mostly basic education, at least in Lio’s case. He hasn’t properly received any since he awakened as a Burnish when he was a kid, after all. He’d learnt enough to read and write to a decent extent, and during more peaceful times he’d sometimes join the little sessions Burnish teachers and professors would hold for everyone who’s interested. He mostly breezes through his language classes and finds an unexpected interest in math and science. Many other inmates seem to often bemoan the latter two, claiming it’s too complicated and it isn’t like they’d have to use most of it in daily life. Lio can’t completely disagree, but he finds that he simply enjoys seeing the flow of logic in things. It's a bit like coming up with strategies for missions, he thinks.

History, though. Lio really hates studying history. He takes to solving math questions at the back of the room in every class.

Life gets mundane once he settles into a routine. Lio eventually gets used to more of it: waking up early in the mornings, the cold showers, the way his muscles would be screaming in pain by the time he’s back from construction work. The voices of the nighttime newscasters and his tutors, the uncomfortable hardness of the mattress he sleeps on, the rough callouses that’s formed across his fingers and palms. Even Galo’s presence at the end of his shifts and the comfort he can’t help but find from it. Lio gets used to them all.

And it’s when he’s waiting for sleep while picking at his callouses one night, around half a year since he first arrived, that he realizes he’s somewhat starting to enjoy himself.

Which, is absolutely ironic, considering he’s pretty much in just a slightly more lenient version of jail. But it’s true. Because despite how hard Lio always tries to convince others and himself that he’s strong enough to protect everyone, he’d lived a life of constant fear. The Freeze Force could show up any moment and they could be outnumbered, someone could grow desperate and betray them to the government. Lio has always yearned this sort of peace deep down, this sort of moments where he doesn’t have to be constantly on his toes.

But it’s also because he’s lived the life he had for so long that he’s sometimes so restless he’s tempted to just start. Screaming.

It doesn’t help that the same bastard who’s been taunting him from day one is _still _constantly trying to get on his nerves. He doesn’t even remember his inmate number; just remembering how he sounds like is the most he can be bothered with. Lio can easily ignore the bullshit he spouts on the daily even if it’s the first goddamn thing he has to hear in the morning, but it’s when things get physical that he feels tested.

He could still bear the childish tripping, the supposedly “friendly” pats against his back that leave bruises on his skin. He can even overlook pettier things that the guards easily dismiss like water deliberately spilled over him and the “accidental” bumps that send his food tray clattering across the floor. All these, Lio could clench his teeth, take a deep breath, and just walk away.

And then the groping begins.

It's a slip on Lio’s part as well. He shouldn’t have given him the reaction he sought, shouldn’t have wheeled around and glared at him with so much hatred that if he was still hosting Promare flames the bastard wouldn’t even have ashes left of him to burn. It's just touching; it isn’t a big deal. Lio has handled so many of the same kind of scum over the years. It _shouldn’t _be a big deal.

“What? Not gonna set me on fire, filthy Burnish?”

But he had never been this constrained. The frustration and annoyance had slowly built up. The fire within Lio had never belonged solely to the Promare. He feels it burning now, boiling in the pit of his stomach as every nerve in his body demands for any sort of physical retaliation.

The willpower it takes to refuse answering to them is nothing short of insane.

“Do not. Touch me,” Lio _seethes_, voice cold as ice and tone sharp as a razor. The bastard takes a step back, seemingly unnerved by his reaction after getting used to his passiveness. He quickly gathers himself, though, and manages to muster a pathetic smirk.

“You don’t have your flames anymore, Fotia,” he attempts to taunt. “Don’t bother acting high and mighty when you’re just as powerless as the rest of us here.”

_“Flames?”_ Lio scoffs, grabbing him by the collar and gripping so hard that the fabric burns against his knuckles. “I don’t need them to break your fingers if you _dare _lay hands on me ever again.”

Bastard’s eyes widen, scanning frantically around the hallway at the inmates who are simply staring in silence. “Y-You wouldn’t dare!”

“And you wouldn’t want to try me,” Lio promises, releasing him with a shove that sends him falling on his butt. He doesn’t wait for him to get back up, storming off before he loses even more control of his temper.

Lio keeps his eyes on the floor as he navigates his way back to his cell, adrenaline still roaring in his ears. The tiny room offers little comfort besides the lock clicking in place for curfew when the sensors detect his presence. Lio’s hands are still shaking, disgust crawling across his skin like a swarm of persistent insects. He wets a piece of cloth at the sink and proceeds to scrub his legs and thighs raw.

Until all that’s left is a sting that doesn’t feel like a bastard’s touch.

His time in detention is a punishment. Lio isn’t allowed to forget that.


	3. Chapter 3

Immediate action is taken after Lio threatened the bastard, which he thinks is pretty ironic considering how long he had had to put up with his antics.

At the very least, Lio doesn’t seem to be the one judged as the problem, since he gets to stay in his usual cell while the bastard gets assigned to another wing in the building where they are pretty much guaranteed to never cross paths again. Guess sexual harassment remains a worse offense than petty bullying.

Lio _is _surprised, though, to find out how many people in his hallway approves of what he’s caused. On the morning of the announcement itself, Lio has about three inmates catching his gaze and giving him nods and smiles of approval and even some thumbs up. It’s the first time Lio’s felt any sort of solidarity with the other inmates, and he’s not sure if that’s a good thing. He doesn’t want to judge anyone at this point. They’ve all got their own reasons why they’re there.

With Bastard out of the way, Lio finally attains ultimate peace in his life in detention. No one to bother him in hours of the morning when he’s still barely feeling human, no one to make him miss meals and starve through the nights. And most importantly, no one to put their filthy hands on him.

The only shame is that Lio really would have _loved_ to break the bastard’s fingers, given the chance, but he digresses. There are perhaps other methods of anger management.

So time passes, as it always does. Lio works, learns and grows. His body eventually stops aching as much after a day of construction work. His jumpsuits start fitting a little better, his pants no longer needing to be rolled up as many times around his ankles. His hair has grown enough to go past his shoulders on a few occasions, and he’s been requesting to cut it short after realizing how difficult it is to maintain lengthier hair in a facility that provides the barest of necessities. The fanciest things Lio has seen to date are the scented hand soap provided in the washrooms near the cafeteria.

Lio admits that he _does _make the effort to go all the way there to use it when he can. Even the sterile scent of lemon and lime is better than the moldy, sour stench of an insufficiently ventilated building. Just more insignificant things to appreciate, just more things to get used to.

And a year and a half after the battle that led to the final Promare Blaze, Lio finds himself watching the news report on Kray Foresight’s official imprisonment.

It had taken time to finalize his sentence mostly because of his prominent position as the Governor. Lio doesn’t understand all the details himself, but it apparently takes a ton of processes to go through when the head of state is the one who’s being convicted. Lio hears that Kray had been mostly cooperative, though, and that he’d easily admitted to the charges pressed against him.

Lio hated—and still hates—Kray Foresight for all he’s done to his people. He's experimented on them, encouraged their oppression, and even attempted genocide of the Burnish by using them as fuel for the Parnassus. Lio had, with all his being, wanted to _rip him apart_ with his own two hands. Kray had repeatedly tried to take away everyone and everything that mattered to him. Lio can never forgive him, never wants to forgive him.

Which is why he doesn’t understand how empty he feels while watching the segment covering Kray’s imprisonment on television. There’s no satisfaction, no gratification despite seeing how karma has finally passed her judgement. Perhaps part of him wants Kray to received a worse punishment than simply going to jail. He'd killed, lied and manipulated his way to the top. He deserves more than simply being locked up somewhere for the rest of his life.

Galo visits the day after the news breaks.

He's much more sullen than usual, which isn’t something unexpected. Lio knows how much Galo had idolized the man, how he’d lived a lie throughout his most formative years. He can’t imagine how it'd feel like to discover that your hero had actually been the one who’d orphaned you, that the person you admired the most in the world and want most to be proud of you—to turn out so sick and deluded. Even Lio had felt a little bad when he shoved the truth into his face back then. It definitely couldn’t have been something easy to accept.

Galo is _kind_; in that foolish, naïve, yet straightforward way of his. He has so much heart to give, and therefore also so much to break.

“You okay?” Lio can’t help but ask when Galo trails off from a bit of small talk he’d managed to muster. Galo glances at him, and laughs nervously.

“Yeah,” he says, so unconvincingly that he shouldn’t even have bothered. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Lio chews on his lip, desperately grasping for a change of topic. But what? What would be a good one that wouldn’t sound too awkward? This is too sudden. If only Galo could’ve told him in advance that he’s visiting then maybe he could’ve had some time to brainstorm—

“Lio.” This time, the call of his name is followed by a huff with that sounds like genuine amusement. “You look like you’re having trouble pooping.”

“Well maybe I am? Mind your own business,” Lio snaps, mostly out of instinct and a bit out of panic the moment his thoughts dissipate. They stare at each other for a few seconds, before one of them cracks and they mutually dissolve into a string of chuckles. The atmosphere finally lightens slightly.

“It’s okay, Lio,” Galo assures once more, his shoulders losing a bit of tension in them. “I really am fine.”

Lio studies his face, trying to read this expression he’s wearing that he’s so unfamiliar with. Even Galo, with his endless passion and energy and brilliance, has this side to him.

“I’m sorry you had to experience everything you did because of him,” Lio offers, holding Galo’s gaze. “You don’t deserve what he put you through.”

“O-Oh.” Galo seems taken aback—slightly embarrassed, even. He breaks eye contact first, reaching to knead his fingers against his nape. “Thanks? Though really, it’s nothing compared to what he’s done to the Burnish and—”

“Galo.” Lio stops him, working to stamp down the sudden rise of anger in his chest. He doesn’t like where this is going. He continues despite Galo’s refusal to meet his eyes. “It’s not something that can be compared. You still feel what _you _feel. Your emotions are not any less valid.”

“I just—” Galo cuts himself off with a sigh, frowning as he stumbles for words. Lio wonders if they should stop this conversation, if maybe Galo really isn’t prepared to talk about this just yet after all. But Galo speaks again before he can say anything about it, voice even softer than before. “I just don’t know if I have the right to feel this way.”

Lio frowns. “Galo—”

“You don’t understand, Lio,” Galo barrels on before Lio can interject. He seems to be in so much conflict with himself, torn even just trying to articulate it. “I know he’s done many horrible things; I’ve seen it with my own eyes. He's a bastard who would do anything for the sake of money and glory. And yet I...” he digs his nails into the skin of his neck, “I still catch myself hoping that isn’t all to it. That all his lies and actions had a good reason behind them. That _deep down_, he’d truly wanted to save the human race.”

The bitter little laugh he then lets out brings an ache to Lio’s chest.

“I really _am _an idiot, aren’t I?”

Lio doesn’t respond immediately. He knows he can’t, not when this topic is so complicated and delicate to Galo. As he mulls over it, Lio realizes that he and Kray Foresight really aren’t that much different in some regard. They both did bad things for a cause they thought was good.

But he also knows that good reasons don’t always justify bad actions.

“You’re an idiot for beating yourself up over something you have no control over, yes.”

Galo winces, but Lio isn’t done. “Again, what you feel is valid despite how wrong you may think it is. But I believe that it’s how you react to your emotions that matters more. What do _you _intend to do about them, Galo? Will you just sit around and mope forever? Or will you continue doing what you’re best at and prove that he doesn’t have control over you even now?”

More contemplative silence. But this time, Galo finally looks at him again.

“You know that’s not even a question,” he protests, and Lio hopes he’s right to think that he looks a little more relieved than before. Galo takes a deep breath, and puffs out his chest for the first time that afternoon. “My soul must burn on, no matter what happens. I’ll have to work even harder at helping everyone who’s been affected.”

“That’s the Galo I know,” Lio approves, heart lifting at the sight of him being a bit of his usual self again. It truly takes moments like these to remind him to appreciate the cheer and energy Galo normally radiates around him despite what he’s going through internally.

“Thanks, Lio. For listening,” Galo says, then moving to stand up when he sees the guard outside getting ready to kick him out once again. Lio crosses his arms and leans back against his chair.

“It’s the least I can do,” he smiles, but he doesn’t seem to be able to keep it up very long. He quickly speaks again before Galo can notice it. “But really, Galo. You must remember to take care of yourself, too.”

“I’m not too worried about that, honestly,” Galo admits, “I’ve got _you _to help me with that.”

Lio blinks. “Galo, I don’t know if you realize, but I’m still in detention and I’m not the most accessible person at the moment.”

“Yeah, but even just a short time with you like this make me feel a whole ton better!” Galo insists, and Lio finds that he can seriously never argue with him for long.

“You really are a weird one,” is what he settles with, which earns him an impish grin from Galo. “Now go, idiot. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

**xXx**

Tomorrows. Lio eventually runs out of tomorrows to spend in the detention center.

His sentence lasts five years. It seems short compared to the damage he’s done, but it’s something that’s been desperately fought for by the people who cares for him.

The night before his release, Lio lies awake trying to sort out what exactly he’s feeling. There’s excitement, of course. He can’t wait to reunite with his friends, catch up with all that has been going on, ease back into the comfort of their companionship. Feel like he’s actually _part _of something again. It’s great that he’s been able to somewhat keep up with the general idea of what’s going on with them through media reports, but it’s also brought with it an inevitable sense of separation. Out there, life moves on without him. While the others struggle back on their feet, Lio has been coddled in the detention center.

He's... suddenly not quite sure how he’d be able to face them. Does he really have the right to when he’s been having the privilege of staying under stable shelter and not having to worry about the daunting uncertainties of the near future for the past few years? Can he really say that he’s served his punishment when he’s probably been having it easier than many of the former Burnish who have been trying their hardest to assimilate back into a society that once saw them as nothing but monsters and terrorists?

These thoughts aren’t something new. His brain, in fact, would always steer this direction whenever it occurs to him how at peace he’s feeling despite being in detention. Lio has only ever been running away instead of facing them, convincing himself that there’s nothing he can do about it while he’s still there. Even if he broods over it for days and months and even _years_, what is done is done. He can no longer change the fact that he is where he is. He's come too far to start regretting.

But now there’s no other option but to face them, no excuses left for him to escape. And Lio is just as lost as ever.

Morning still comes; it always does. Lio listens as the alarms blare to signal the start of the day for the other inmates, as cell doors slide open and groggy yawns and groans fill the hallway along with the shuffle of feet. He listens until there’s nothing left to listen to but his own breathing and heartbeat in his ears.

Lio later has his breakfast brought straight to his cell by an expressionless guard. Even though he’s scheduled to be released in literally a few hours, he isn’t allowed to leave the room. The door will only unlock when it’s time for him to meet the head warden at the office.

Lio doesn’t want to bother thinking too much into it, so he doesn’t. He's making enough effort just trying to swallow and stomach the usual sandwiches and milk, both made even blander by his nerves. He ends up pacing around his cell until he hears the lock disabling, and even _then_ he catches himself trying to stall for time by folding his blanket repeatedly because “the corners don’t perfectly align”.

He's being extremely ridiculous. He _knows_. He’s going to be free again, for God’s sake! He's not so much of a coward that he’d rather stay in a prison equivalent than face the reality he’s been mostly shielded from all these years.

Except maybe he is. A little bit. Quite a little bit.

Lio’s asked to sign some documents at the office, then he’s reminded that he’s still on probation for another year after he’s released. Although its recording functions will be permanently disabled, his movements can still be tracked by the chip in his ankle. Lio’s later given a set of plain civilian clothes which he changes into on the spot, as well as his own identification card once the rest of the briefing is out of the way.

And then with absolutely no ceremony at all, he’s dismissed.

Lio walks towards the front gates then through them, with no one running up to stop him. It’s been five years since he has the right to go wherever he wanted. It hasn’t quite sunk in, what’s happening. But he’s sure it will, eventually. Eventually.

_He's _there of course. Just as he’s always been, always waiting for him from afar. It may be arrogant of Lio to never have even doubted it.

Galo’s standing close to his parked bike, squinting at his cellphone under the late morning sun. He looks up when Lio calls out to him, and in that moment, the weight in Lio’s chest lifts enough for him to breathe.

And with that, the first day of Lio’s next new life begins with a wave and a bright call of his name from Galo Thymos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the problem with Lio resolving not to heck shit up in prison is that there's really nothing much more i can say about it-  
i know i could've given him even more tension with the other inmates but i feel like that'd just drag things a bit too much? i just want to get to the happier and sappier bits okay let me live f;kajsdf


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive worked on this for so long that the onedrive link i have it on has a shortcut on my new tabs page now f;askdjf;
> 
> but yeahhh so sorry for the super late update everyone!! the new job really hecked me up in a lot of ways lmao 
> 
> the first drafts had really weird flow as well and it took forever before i could figure out how to fix them and honestly im not sure if its much better even now but i give up ive tried f;kasjdf; hope its not too bad!!

“Get on, Lio. We’re gonna go have lunch with the boys.”

Is the first thing Galo says when Lio walks up to him. Lio fails to suppress a smile at his wording.

“Galo, what the _heck_,” he says, accepting the helmet Galo passes to him nonetheless. Galo straps on his gear as he elaborates.

“Gueira and Meis have been going on and _on _about treating you to something nice once you’re out so,” he seats himself, “lunch’s on them today. They should be waiting for us when we get there since it’s closer to their place.”

“I see.” Lio climbs on after Galo, putting his arms around his waist and interlocking his fingers. Galo starts up the engine and goes over the usual routines with habitual ease, then glances over his shoulder when he notices Lio slipping into silence.

“You okay?” his voice comes through a hidden speaker built in his helmet. And honestly? Lio isn’t quite sure himself. Everything still feels a bit unreal. The silence, the blue skies, the fact that he’s here now and not at the site doing the labor that’s become a usual for him. Even the fact that he’s now speaking to someone else so freely without a time limit looming over them—Lio seems to have yet to process them all.

“Just a little tired,” Lio replies, which he guesses pretty much sums it up too.

“What, you’re that excited about today that you couldn’t sleep?” Galo teases, to which Lio only hums ambiguously because he’s not _wrong _but he doesn’t quite want to give him the satisfaction of being correct. “It’ll take a bit of time for us to get there so feel free to lean against me and get some rest. Just don’t forget to keep holding on, though—wouldn’t want you falling off halfway.”

And Lio only hums to that again, seizing the chance to get comfortable yet not too much so before Galo starts on their way to the diner.

It’s...been a while since he had such close contact with another person, it eventually dawns Lio as they cruise through the roads of the city. Galo’s so much different from the pillow he’s hugged for comfort on nights where his chest feels hollow enough to hurt. He's warmer, solid. Alive. There, with him. 

Lio holds Galo just a little tighter, leaning against his back as he’s offered. Just until the sudden wave of _something _in his chest goes away, just until the sounds of traffic around them and the rush of cool air against his skin could distract him again.

The pizza diner is a quaint little place in the middle of a lively district decorated with colorful banners and flowery bushes along the sidewalks. It looks like there’s either going to be a festival soon, or one has just passed. Galo manages to find a parking right outside the restaurant, and Lio has just climbed off and barely removed his helmet when he hears a couple of enthusiastic, familiar voices calling for their Boss.

He manages to put the helmet away just before Gueira and Meis sprint over and envelop him in a crushing three-person hug.

Everything about them screams familiarity: their touch, scent, warmth. It finally begins to sink in. How long Lio has actually been away, how long he’s been separated from the people he considers his family. They might have developed the habit of calling him their Boss, but Gueira and Meis have always been more like his older brothers, his caretakers when he’s not out there presenting himself as the leader of Mad Burnish. They respected him, no doubt, but they also loved him as their own. Always supporting him in his wild, reckless endeavors, always knowing when to make sure he doesn’t go overboard and hurt himself.

Lio misses them. He misses his brothers so much.

“You guys,” he swallows the lump in his throat, holding them closer, “it’s so good to see you again.”

“Bosssssssssssss!” Gueira proceeds to wail, almost overlapping with Meis’ demands of “Why did you suddenly run off and do that all by yourself!!!”

Lio does his best to calm them, promising he’ll tell them in a bit so why don’t they just go grab a bite first? The two are quick to start enthusiastically listing out recommendations as they start heading towards the diner, and part of Lio still can’t seem to get over how...unchanged they seem. It feels like home, with them. Safe, accepting, anchoring.

He turns around to prompt Galo to come along, too, and sees the fond smile he’s wearing while he watches them.

“Galo,” Lio feels himself returning the smile as he beckons him over, “let’s go.”

Meis has already made a reservation beforehand, so they’re immediately led to a table by the window once the staff confirms the details. Lio easily gets coaxed into being squished between his brothers on one side while Galo takes the other alone. Lio assures them he’s fine with anything when asked for any preferences, and in no time their orders are placed (with specific requests to exclude onions, of course; they still remember how much Lio dislikes them) and they finally have time to themselves.

Gueira and Meis are quick to resume their questions; Lio can’t blame them. He'd made that drastic, spontaneous decision all by himself back then, after all. Of course they’d still be in the dark with a lot of details. Gueira recounts how he’d actually decked Galo when he found out Lio had been arrested, thinking he had let it all happen despite having just teamed up with him to save the world (“Sorry ‘bout that, bro.” “I told you already, it’s cool bro.”) Meis apparently had even almost gone as far as planning to break into the detention center itself to get Lio out of there. It was a mess. It’d taken Burning Rescue a lot of yelling and reasoning to get the agitated Burnish to calm down and listen.

“We really thought they were going to lock you up for life, Boss,” Meis admits, staring at his own clasped hands on the table. “And I'm sure if it weren’t for the firefighters and that team of researchers, they would have.”

“I know we haven’t thanked you properly for all you’ve done for us and the Boss,” Gueira adds, then grimly faces Galo without a shred of hesitation. “So thanks, Galo. For all your help.”

“No, no need to thank me in particular! It’s all team effort!” Galo is, in true Galo fashion, instantly dismissive. “We couldn’t possibly have just left all of you by yourselves after all that. The Burnish had gone through enough as it was.”

“But what _you _have done,” Lio reminds him, “is keep me company through those five years. And that alone has saved me more than you can imagine.” He looks up to meet Galo’s gaze. “So thank you. Take credit for at least that.”

“It’s nothing, really!!” Galo insists, cheeks turning slightly red from all the sudden gratitude directed at him. When he realizes this, he covers his face with his hands and just lets out a meaningful “AaaaaAAaaa!!”

“Just accept it, Thymos, because from now on we’d probably die for you.” Gueira says like it isn’t even a joke. “Right, Boss?”

“Please _don’t _do that,” Galo pleads. The pizzas arrive in that moment, giving him the chance to steer the conversation another direction. “A-Anyway, enough of all the serious stuff now that food is here! Let’s eat while it’s still fresh!”

And so they do. Lio pulls out a slice of pizza, still steaming hot and dripping with cheese. He's somewhat gotten used to the feeling of heat on his fingers now, though on some days it’d still feel so foreign and unfathomable. On some days he’s still inexplicably tempted to find out how far he can go before it’s unbearable, before his skin blisters and burns when he’s been immune to injuries like those almost half his life.

Lio takes his first bite, and immediately has to take a deep breath. He's gotten too used to the bland food of the detention center, he realizes. The richness of the cheese and the tomato paste and the olive oil simultaneously assaults his taste buds, and he’s almost overwhelmed.

Meis is the first to notice his lack of enthusiasm and quickly offers, “Boss, if you don’t like it we can—”

Lio raises a hand and shakes his head, stifling a burp. “It’s not that I don’t like it, Meis. I’m just...not used to it yet. I’m sure it’ll get better in a few minutes.”

“Just don’t force yourself if you really can’t have it, yeah?” Gueira insists, brow furrowed. “We can always get something easier to stomach for you, like garlic bread or something.”

“No need.” Lio is just as adamant. “You guys are sharing something you like with me. I can do at least this.”

He tries his best, with many sips of water in between. Their conversation eventually picks up again, and Lio lets himself to be distracted enough to ignore a portion of the pizza’s richness that’s making him sick. He encourages Meis and Gueira to share all about what they’ve been up to and they do; they’ve started out mostly acting as representatives of the former Burnish, aiding Heris and her team in their efforts by providing detailed testimonials of the terrors they had witnessed and experienced. Once that was mostly settled and they found they could not be much use anywhere else, they’d started looking for jobs, knowing they can never rely too much on provisions from an unstable government. Many other adult Burnish must’ve thought the same, gradually finding the courage to put themselves out there again when Heris’s campaign began gaining more momentum.

In Gueira and Meis’ case, there had been no question. Galo had told them about Lio’s community service and involvement in restoring destroyed infrastructure during his detention. They couldn’t let him carry such burden all by himself. So they’d found a company that couldn’t care less about them being past fire-wielding hooligans as long as they could do a good job and, like Lio, had learnt to rebuild instead of destroy.

Lio’s already heard about some of what they’ve been doing from Galo as soon as they got the job. It _is _his first time, however, hearing their motivations. If they couldn’t be close to Lio in person, they’d do it in spirit. They could indirectly share similar experiences, similar aches, even similar doubts and frustrations. He’s not alone. They refuse to let him be, even if he doesn’t realize it.

“You’d be dumb to think we’ll let you go off on your own so easily after everything.” Gueira ends his recollection with a grin, slinging an arm across Lio’s shoulders. “We’ll always be here for you, Boss. No matter what.”

And of all the times Lio has had the sudden, inexplicable urge to cry that day, this is the first where he fails to keep the tears back. Those five years...he’d been lonely. So _ridiculously much so_. He might’ve gotten used to being by himself, but that didn’t stop the invisible weight from pressing down on his chest, didn’t stop him from feeling so disconnected and isolated despite Galo’s fleeting presence. It all comes crashing over him like a tidal wave. The past five years hadn’t been extremely hard on him physically; he could bear with the soreness, the harassment, the other petty less-than-ideal things even in his standards. But it had been so unbearably _lonesome_.

No one makes a fuss when he cries. His brothers hold him, offering support in silence. Galo averts his gaze to give him some privacy, though if Lio had been looking he’d see how misty his eyes are, too.

Lio feels like a child again. It’s been so long since he’s had such a privilege; to just bask in their unwavering presence, their scent, their warmth, their affection—without having to worry about how weak he might look, how unreliable he’d seem to others if he ever bared the cracks in his being. Lio cries; he cries until his throat hurts and the cheese on the pizza tastes even worse than before.

And once it’s all over, once the knot in his chest has finally faded away, he _laughs_. And he admits he can’t stomach any more of the pizza.

“So what do you plan to do after this?” Galo asks a little later when Lio’s munching on the tuna sandwiches they ordered for him after he’s calmed down. Lio sniffs and takes a moment to think it over, not quite sure himself what’s going to happen next.

“Is there anyone who are still in the shelters? Maybe I could just drop by and see how they’re doing.” He decides that could be a good place to begin.

Meis and Gueira exchange a look at that. “As far as we know, most of us have already found our own places to stay,” Meis tells him, “the ones who remain are mostly those who aren’t willing to leave because they still get provisions.”

Lio hums in more thought before deciding it’s still worth a try. “I want to have an idea of how it was for you guys when I was gone, anyway. Plus I'll need somewhere to stay at in the meantime, so I might as well.”

“You could always just stay with us, Boss! It’s really not a problem!” Gueira’s quick to offer, but Lio’s already made up his mind.

“You and Meis are both busy, and I'm sure you guys need your privacy too. It really doesn’t matter to me.”

They bicker back and forth about that for a bit; they’re understandably stubborn about not leaving Lio by himself. He’s been away for such a long while and all he’s got with him are the clothes on his back. They're the only people he has contact with, and the only people he can directly count on at the moment. Lio’s silly to still insist on trying to handle everything himself and refusing to rely on the only people he can, he knows. It’s just something he thinks he’s got to do, some rite of passage he thinks he must go through before he earns the right to ask for help.

“Lio, listen.”

Amongst the bickering, Galo eventually speaks up. He waits until they’ve quieted down, until Lio meets his gaze before he continues.

“Burning Rescue accepts recruits a few times a year, the next being in about a month,” he tells him. “There’s not much prior qualifications needed for the job as long as you're physically fit, and you’d get to stay in a dorm during the training period. If it’s something you want to try out, I can ask the Captain to throw in a recommendation for you.”

He then looks at the other two. “Meis, Gueira—this is still open to you guys, too.”

There he goes again, doing...this. Butting into people’s lives, needlessly trying to help even in the littlest ways.

“You don’t have to decide so quickly, though!” Galo hurriedly waves his hands in front of himself and adds when the others lapse into a minute of thoughtful silence. “Just know that if you have nowhere else to go, you guys are always welcomed in the FDPP.”

“That’s very reassuring.” Lio genuinely means it. “Thanks, Galo.”

Galo grins, and Lio is once again reminded of how fortunate he is to have him by his side. He’s always been there for them, always been ready to help without expecting anything in return. Lio’s hit by the sudden, overwhelming urge to give back to him; ten-fold, a thousand-fold. He isn’t sure how and if that’d even be possible in his lifetime, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to try.

If it’s for Galo, surely he’d be able to do anything at all.

**xXx**

They spend the next few hours more just talking about everything and anything, just sharing laughter and anecdotes. Just like every other group of close friends.

And then it’s time for Meis and Gueira to prepare for their shift in the evening, and they have to leave. Galo again offers Lio a ride since the shelter is a little out of the other two’s way to work. Though, it _might _be a little more accurate to say he’d insisted to do so, refusing to listen to even a syllable of argument from Lio about being a bother to him. It's been five years, and Lio still doesn’t know what he’s going to do with this childishly stubborn side of him.

“Lio.”

But there’s one thing he’s learnt, and that there’s always so much more of Galo under his daily boisterous façade. Lio once again catches of a glimpse of it when Galo calls his name a little while after he’s begun driving.

“It didn’t feel right for me to say this in front of the guys just now,” Galo starts, his voice calm and quiet through the speaker, “but you can always stay at my place too next time if you want. It’s pretty big and I live alone so it’s cool even if another person comes over.”

Galo doesn’t stop trying to keep giving and giving, especially to him. Part of Lio still can’t quite comprehend why he’s willing to go such lengths for his sake when he’s got nothing to gain from it. Doesn’t it grow tiring at some point? Isn't it enough that his entire career is based on the idea of helping others in need? Doesn’t it grow exhausting when he lets it extend to even personal matters like this?

“Galo,” Lio’s asking before he can even properly sort out his thoughts, “why are you so nice to me?”

“Mmm, isn’t that obvious?” Galo sounds genuinely confused that Lio doesn’t understand something so simple. “It’s because you’re my friend!”

Lio frowns. “That doesn’t mean you have to do so many things for my sake.”

“Lio, I don’t _have_ to do it,” Galo says, patiently, “I _want _to do it. Also, don’t get so full of yourself—a lot of it is for my own sake too, y’know. I’m much more selfish than you might think.”

“That’s truly a surprise,” Lio can’t help but snark to that last bit, and it prompts a playful protest from Galo that leads to some laughter shared.

“Nah, but really,” Galo says once the mirth has faded away, voice taking that quiet, gentle tone once more. “I don’t get it all myself, but I just feel like the way our paths crossed, the way coincidences somehow brought us together to literally save the world—” he takes a breath— “don’t you think it feels a bit like destiny?”

Lio blinks, trying to process the actual words that’d just come out of Galo’s mouth. _Destiny...?_ It’s such a fantastical concept, something out of the fairy tales Lio had read when he was a little child. It’s something Lio doesn’t expect to hear in this day and age, yet it doesn’t sound too far-fetched to have come from Galo. Galo, who constantly boasts of other fantastical things like his burning spirit and blazing heart and being the best firefighter in the universe.

“Galo Thymos,” Lio observes, amused, “you’re a surprisingly romantic man.”

“Anything wrong with that?” The pout is evident in Galo’s response even though Lio can’t see it. He sighs, smiles.

“None at all.” _You’re amazing the way you are,_ he manages to stop himself from adding despite truly believing so. He isn’t quite prepared to face the embarrassment of telling him that just yet. Perhaps the day will come when he is, perhaps it will never. Lio doesn’t bother mulling over it.

They soon slip into a comfortable silence, content with simply sharing the space, the moment. Galo must’ve heard Lio yawning at some point, pulling over to shrug off his jacket and tie its sleeves around both their waists. Lio figures it’s to help prevent him from falling off as easily if he passes out, and the comfort of knowing so eventually adds to the effects from his full belly and fading adrenaline. His eyelids grow heavier by the minute, and he finds himself nodding off.

And the next thing he knows, Galo waking him and telling him they’ve arrived at the shelter.

It’s not a very big place, though Lio understands that they’ve gradually downsized the premise as more and more people left. There’s a small reception space at the front, then a hallway that leads to a canteen, shower stalls, and the toilets. The sleeping quarters are further back, in what looks like a small hall with cement floors and large windows at intervals across the walls. There are some used blankets and mattresses strewn across the back corners of the hall, rubbish and dirty laundry littering the space around them. Compared to the rest of the place that’s maintained so perfectly, those areas seem like dumpsters.

“You sure you want to be here?” Galo asks one last time as Lio begins filling the paperwork, frowning in obvious disapproval at whoever’s been hanging around.

“I’m an ex-terrorist who's been in detention, Galo. I know how to take care of myself.” Lio assures as he finishes up and hands the documents back to the receptionist. He tries to ignore the uncomfortable stare he gets from him—maybe he shouldn’t have said that first bit out loud. Oops.

The pout in Galo’s frown intensifies as he tries to come up with more reasons to argue, but he ends up giving in this time. He instead asks for a pen and a piece of paper, scribbling down some things before handing it to Lio.

"Here’s Gueira and Meis’ numbers,” he says, shoving the note into Lio’s hands and folding his fingers over it. “Mine’s there, too. Call us anytime if you need us, alright? Use this place’s landline or a payphone or something since you don’t have a cellphone yet.”

He can be so overprotective at times, Lio muses. “Will you be dropping by every night again?”

He'd meant it mostly as a joke, but Galo’s serious when he answers, “If I can!”

“Please don’t,” Lio pleads, though he knows it’s mostly impossible to change his mind at this point.

“There’s no way for us to reach you if you suddenly up and disappear, Lio!” Galo’s a little more agitated than necessary when he reminds him. “What if something happens!!”

“It won’t,” Lio soothes, gesturing for him to lower his voice. “I’ll be fine, Galo. You’ve worried enough about me.”

“And you can’t expect me to stop now.” Galo crosses his arms across his chest.

Lio gives him a look, like _really, what am I going to do with you._ “Just go, Galo. It’s been a day for the both of us. I want to wind down soon too.”

“I’ll try to come here after work tomorrow—maybe around seven? We can have dinner together or something?” Galo asks as he lets Lio steer him around and gently push him towards the exit.

“Just do what you like.”

“It’s settled then!” Lio walks right into him when he suddenly plants his feet on the ground and stops to turn around and face him again. “Be careful if you’re going to go out wandering later, yeah?”

“Yes, yes.” Lio smiles crookedly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Galo.”

Tomorrow. Yet another tomorrow with Galo to look forward to. Yet another thing that Lio’s glad remains unchanged.


	5. Chapter 5

Lio’s night begins well enough.

He gets to take a shower with soap that smells like citrus, change into a fresh set of cotton clothes he’d picked out from the collection of donations. He feels clean, refreshed, and content from a day well spent with friends he’d missed. The mattress and blankets are unexpectedly comfortable. He’s all wrapped up in sheets, watching the clouds drift across the sky from the window as he waits for his hair to dry.

He’s almost nodding off when he hears the ruckus. It seems to have come from the reception hall, and it grows louder as whoever the noise belongs to approaches the sleeping quarters. Lio glares at the entrance, annoyed that his moment of peace is rudely interrupted by some obscene drunk. He's sure he’s read something about a noise curfew as he was going over the shelter rules out of curiosity earlier, but clearly this bastard doesn’t care about it at all since there really isn’t anyone around to enforce it.

Lio doesn’t recognize the person who stumbles in red-faced and absolutely reeking of alcohol. It’s not something he can be blamed for—their group of fugitives had consisted of hundreds of people, after all. Lio had tried to personally greet every one of them whenever he had the chance, but even his memory has its limits. Besides, there were Burnish whom the Foresight Foundation had captured without ever joining Lio’s group, and the shelter’s open to others who are in need for a place to stay as well. Lio has a higher chance of meeting strangers here more than anything.

The drunk continues to make a fuss, alternating between ranting about nonsense and singing out of tune with his whole chest. Lio considers doing both of them a favor by knocking him out cold, though before he can decide to go through with it, the guy stumbles one last time and falls flat on the floor without getting up again.

Which would’ve been _peachy _if it isn't for the fact that he still stinks even from all the way where he is. You’d think Lio would’ve had grown used to bearing with unpleasant odors after his time at detention, but at least the inmates didn’t have access to alcohol and tobacco. And they probably changed clothes and took showers more often too.

Lio pulls his blanket over his nose and decides there’s nothing else to do but to ignore it.

Fortunately for him, he's exhausted enough to pass out as soon as his annoyance dissipates. He wakes to sunlight in his eyes the next day, unsure what time it is and where he even is for a second. He slowly sits up, rubbing grogginess out of his eyes as he yawns. He can faintly hear bird songs and the rumbles of passing cars coming from the outside. It’s a new day.

Lio looks around; the wasted guy from the night before is still where he’d collapsed face-first on the floor. Some beds are still occupied, the people using them hidden under their blankets after the chilly night. The rest of the used beds are empty; Lio can’t tell if their owners even returned at all. It really isn’t his business.

Lio tidies up his little space and heads out to the bathrooms to freshen up. He doesn’t properly bump into other occupants of the shelter until he enters the canteen to see if there’s any food available. A middle-aged woman sitting at the far end of the room stares at him for a bit as he picks out a piece of packaged bread from the counter.

“Lio...?” She seemingly comes to a realization before calling out to him. “Boss?”

Lio turns toward her, finding her vibrant red hair somewhat familiar. He faintly remembers seeing someone within their group who had features like hers.

“Good morning,” he greets. Then after a quick thought, “Mind if I sat with you?”

“No, no, not at all!” The lady seems a little taken aback by Lio’s casualness. Lio walks over and takes the seat across from her.

“Sorry, I don’t think I ever got your name,” he admits. “You _were _with us the last time, weren’t you?”

“I-It’s Cindy. And yes, I was once rescued and taken in by Mad Burnish,” Cindy answers, still looking a little flustered. “I can’t believe _you’re_ here, Lio. What happened back then?”

“Just thought it’d be best for all of us if I turned myself in as damage control.” Lio tears open the packaging of his bread and takes a bite. “’Also, no need to be so tense, Cindy. I’m not the Mad Burnish leader anymore. I’m no different than you—never really have been.”

“That’s not true!” Cindy immediately refutes, sitting straighter in agitation. “You have been and always will be an amazing person in our eyes. You’re our hero!”

“I’m not sure I deserve to be called that,” Lio muses, biting off another piece of bread. “But I’m glad that despite all the mistakes I made along the way, you guys could still see me as a source of hope.”

“As hard as you tried, I'm sure not everyone expected you to be perfect,” Cindy assures with a little, forlorn smile. “If it hadn’t been for you and Mad Burnish’s efforts, most of us would never have lived to see this day. Thank you.”

Ah, perhaps this is how Galo felt yesterday when they started throwing gratitude at him out of the blue. A fuzzy feeling in his chest, a pleasant burn in his cheeks. Lio thinks it’s high time for a change of topic.

“So how has it been, living here?” he asks, hoping the swerve doesn’t come across as drastic as he feels it does. Cindy doesn’t seem bothered by this, thankfully, and is happy to share.

It was, of course, a bit chaotic at first. Hundreds of ex-Burnish were cramped into two different shelters; the facilities and provisions were barely enough to support all of them. Due to the urgency of the situation, there'd been families who were separated as well. There were also cases of violence among the former Burnish, as well as from people who still blamed the Burnish as a whole for the mass destruction of the city. Times were tumultuous then. No one really knew what the next day or even hour would bring. Most of the former Burnish stayed exclusively within the shelter, not daring to set foot into a society that still primarily saw them as threats.

It had taken many months for things to improve. Gueira and Meis managed to appeal for at least the expansion of the shelters, which literally gave everyone more space to breathe. The truth about the Foresight Foundation’s true intentions and actions, as well as what was known about the Promare and how it affected the Burnish, were also eventually publicized. More and more people came to learn and accept that not all Burnish were inherently bad, and the Bill fought for by Heris’ team was passed.

It’s only after many months that it’s safe for the former Burnish to walk out of the shelter again.

“I’ve actually left once myself, but things didn’t exactly work out.” Cindy seems slightly sheepish at the admittance, glancing away as she absently rubs her arm. “I’m alone and the job I had really took a toll on my health. I realized that maybe I’m not all ready to get my own place just yet.”

“I don’t think there’s an issue with not being ready,” Lio says, perhaps understanding a little too well. “Take your time to work things out, there’s no rush.”

He receives a look of gratitude for that. “What about you, Lio? What are you going to do from now on? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I’m... not so sure, either.” Lio chews up the rest of his breakfast. “I’m still trying to find my way around myself.”

“I hope you’ll find what’s best for you, then,” Cindy wishes, eyes then widening when she glances at the clock. “Oh! I should really go now before I’m late! Sorry for taking up your time!”

“Don’t be, it was a meaningful chat,” Lio assures with a small wave. “May your day go well.”

“And yours, too!” Cindy moves to leave, but stops abruptly when something occurs to her. “Also, if you’re staying around, please be careful of one of the men—the tall one with black hair. He just came in a few weeks ago and he could be...”

“Volatile?” Lio guesses, unsurprised. Cindy nods affirmative.

“He usually sleeps the whole day and disappears throughout the night, so as long as you can stay out of his way it shouldn’t be too bad,” she says, “I’m just worried he’ll be extra hostile towards you since you’re our Boss.”

Ah, so he’s _that_ sort of person. Lio promises he’ll do his best to avoid crossing paths with him. It’s just not worth the time and energy. People like those are still bound to exist despite what has happened and been done. If everyone could change their mindsets and perspectives so easily, the world would be a much better place.

Lio ponders over what he should do for the rest of the day after Cindy leaves. He’s given a bit of allowance before he left detention; he figures he should use some of that money to stock up on some essentials. That makes the supermarket a destination, but that’s about it. He’ll just wander around for the rest of the day and see where his legs take him.

Lio changes back into the clothes from yesterday before going out. A cool breeze greets him as soon as he steps through the exit; it’s colder than yesterday even though the sky is just as clear. Lio doesn’t hesitate to head right back inside to search for a jacket he could use for the time being. He's familiar with this weather pattern; if it’s cool at this time of the day, it’ll only get colder later on. The weather in Promepolis can be unforgiving as they enter the winter months.

He returns outside with a slightly faded jacket that he doesn’t mind being just a little too big on him. He looks all around, wondering which way he should go. He hadn’t been able to catch a glimpse of how the neighborhood looks like when Galo drove him here; he should’ve probably tried harder to stay awake. Not that he can change that now. Lio decides to just head towards the area with a higher concentration of multi-storied buildings, thinking it looks like a place where he's bound to stumble upon somewhere promising.

The air is crisp, slightly stinging his nose and throat with every breath. It's quiet in that strange, liminal sort of way. The calm right after the early morning rush and right before the lunch-hour hustle. Most of the people strolling along the streets are either the elderly or parents on their off days helping out with chores and grocery shopping. The atmosphere, even the sceneries are reminiscent of the life Lio had a long time ago. It’s peaceful, normal. Unreal.

Lio can imagine it too vividly. Smoke suddenly rising from a distant building, sirens wailing as censors detect Burnish flares. The roar of bike engines, the unapologetic laughter of Mad Burnish members as they caused havoc once more. The sheer thrill of being able to storm right into the city and set fire to buildings housing companies linked to the Foundation, unhindered by the puny extinguishers trying in vain to freeze their flames.

This is the sort of life they disrupt when they decide to finally satisfy that pent up, primal urge to burn and burn.

Lio takes a deep breath. The air does not smell like smoke nor fire. No one is panicking and frantically evacuating. He is where he is. The past was where it was. What has happened then isn’t happening now.

The Promare he’s lived solely for back then is no longer here.

Lio’s hunch of going towards the cluster of taller buildings is right; he soon ends up in a busier district filled with bakeries and fast food chains and thrift stores and various other businesses. It’s still not crowded for now, otherwise Lio’s sure he’d be intimidated just by being there. It hits him anew, the extent of how disconnected he feels from the current world. How long has it been since he could be in public as casually as this? What has changed since the past system forced him and thousands of others out of society? What hasn’t changed?

Lio walks slowly, keeping to one side of the path. He finds himself peeking through every display window and open entrance he comes across, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever goes on inside each individual establishment. He listens to snippets of the different songs that are played between each shop: something poppy for the place selling clothes, a catchy jingle for the electronics store, something jazzy for the café with a unique logo. It’s as though they are different worlds within; different scents, different vibes.

It’s truly a strange experience, being there.

Lio wanders down the first street and then the opposite. Observing, immersing. He finds a supermarket eventually, just as he begins to feel hungry. He spends a moment trying to decide if he should return to the shelter for lunch before coming out again. There's still so much he wants to see and there are still some hours before he’s expecting Galo to arrive, after all. He's got the time and energy to spare.

He settles on going back for lunch; he wants to have a look at what’s there on the other side of the neighborhood, anyway. But first, he spends a good chunk of time browsing through the aisles in the supermarket. It fascinates Lio, to be honest. There are so many things he recognizes from the places Mad Burnish had raided for supplies back in the day, yet more that he’s never seen nor heard of before. So this is the brand of chips the kids often talked about craving, so that’s the drink that was really popular among even the older Burnish. There are so many things he catches himself wanting to try, and he really is close to giving in to the temptation at some point.

If only he isn’t on such a tight budget. Capitalism really can be a pain. Lio ends up only getting the things he needs before leaving.

He heads back to the shelter at a much faster pace than he’d left it, motivated by the increasingly loud growls from his belly and the want to avoid the lunch crowd that’s gradually filling the streets. He arrives without much incident, chest light from the past hours of being able to take his mind off the thoughts he isn’t exactly ready to face. It’s liberating, being able to spend this bit of time just being where he was.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t last.

Lio has just finished a quick serving of fried rice, left his purchases in an unoccupied locker and is on his way back out again when he’s dragged by the arm and slammed against a wall by a person who fits the description Cindy had given him earlier. Tall, with black hair. Unshaven beard, bloodshot eyes.

“_You_. You have a lot of guts showing your face here after everything.”

Lio isn’t surprised that he’s so quickly recognized. Of all the Burnish, he’s the only one who’s appearance had been widely publicized by the media. This is before the protection laws were in place, before it was made very difficult for the former Burnish to be discriminated based on appearance alone. It’s another burden for him to bear, in a way. It might be impossible to differentiate every other former flame wielder from those who weren’t one, but Lio Fotia will always be synonymous to Burnish.

Lio takes a deep breath to swallow the pain before calmly regarding the man. This doesn’t scare him. He's experienced enough of these during his time in detention to be affected by people like him.

“I don’t suppose I know you,” he states, unbothered enough to seemingly infuriate the guy further.

“Of course you don’t,” he spits. “Terrorists don’t expect to remember the names of every person whose life they ruined, now do they? Why would they care that their fires would take everything away from someone else?”

Lio stares at him, weighing his response in his mind. He can’t deny what this man said. They as Burnish had not been able to afford that capacity to care about whatever happened to citizens caught in their infernos beyond sparing their lives. When the entire world is against you, there’s no choice but to fight back with just as little mercy.

There had never been choice for them, back then.

“I’m sorry it happened to you,” is all Lio can offer. He can’t change the past, he can’t bring back what this man had lost. He can’t undo the damages the Promare flames have been used to do. This bit of sympathy is the only thing he can offer.

And it earns him all but a punch in the face.

**xXx**

Lio ends up not exploring the other side of town, the lightness in his chest from earlier having dissipated into what feels like a lump of condensed tar.

He instead finds a quiet spot at a nearby park and spends the rest of his afternoon there, the myriad of thoughts he’d ignored earlier now swirling violently in his head. It's stuffy under the mask he’s given by the shelter receptionist to cover the bruise on his cheek before heading outside. The spot where he’d bitten into upon impact aches whenever he prods at it with his tongue.

Lio sits on the grass under a tree with a decent shade, and broods until the sun begins to set.

Galo meets him at the shelter entrance later, ready with a bag of homecooked meals packed neatly in boxes. He suggests just settling down at the canteen at first, but he quickly complies when Lio mentions he’d prefer going somewhere they could have a bit more privacy instead. They end up going back to the park, finding a picnic table right under a streetlamp so they can see what they eat.

It’s no surprise that Galo’s quick to freak out when he sees what Lio has been hiding with his mask. He fusses about getting him a cold compress for the bruise, some ointment for the abrasion in his inner cheek. Lio promises it’s no big deal, these aren’t the worst injuries he’s gotten. He's taken beatings much worse than this.

It still doesn’t stop Galo from once again trying to convince him to leave the shelter.

“Galo, I’m told the guy's usually gone at night. I’ll just have to avoid him the rest of the time,” Lio assures, sighing from the exhaustion of trying so hard to get through Galo’s indomitable stubbornness.

“But there’s no guarantee he won’t change that now that he knows you’re there!” Galo remains adamant despite Lio’s efforts. “What if he tries to mess with you when you’re sleeping or something?”

“I can defend myself.” Lio grits his teeth, feeling his own annoyance rising at how helpless Galo seems to be making him out to be. Stop, just _stop _treating him like he’s some kind of damsel who can’t even fight back for himself when he’s been doing just that for as long as he could remember.

“I know, Lio. I know! It just—” Galo runs his fingers through his hair, exasperated— “doesn’t make it any easier to accept, knowing you’re exposed to these situations when there’s something we can do about it.”

He gives Lio a pleading look. “Come stay with me or your brothers, Lio. _Please_. Even if it’s just temporary.”

“I don't want to burden any of you!” Lio slams his fists against the table in a burst of temper, rattling the untouched boxed meals Galo had brought. “Why _can’t _you understand that?”

“Because we care about you!” Galo matches his outburst. “Why can’t _you _understand that?” 

“You _know _it wouldn’t make a difference as a whole.” The flare of anger disappears as suddenly as it’d risen. Lio averts his gaze and crosses his arms, digging his fingers into the sleeves of his borrowed jacket. “Even if I leave the place there’s still bound to be people elsewhere who have something to settle with me.”

“But you can run away then,” Galo points out. “You can just leave the situation and return somewhere they can’t find and hurt you.”

“I can’t run away from the past, Galo.” Lio curls a little more into himself, weighed down. “Nothing changes the fact that the flames I hosted were the same ones that took from so many.”

“It doesn’t mean you have to feel partly at blame for everything each individual Burnish has done! It’s not right,” Galo reasons. “Lio, you’re still arrogant. No matter what you say, you tend to act and think like you’re still the Boss.”

And Lio finds that he’s unable to refute that. Galo’s...spot on. He’s been desperately clinging on to the past, desperately trying to feel like he still has a clear reason to be here. Being a Burnish had been something he’d taken immense pride in and he doesn’t want to forget that. He doesn’t want the Burnish’s existence to simply vanish as another fragment lost to time, not when their struggles had been so very real.

But in his effort to do that, he’d also subconsciously prevented himself from moving on.

He’s...afraid to move on, to tell the truth. He's afraid that he feels so lost and insignificant and he doesn’t know what he can do about it. What is he even _supposed _to do? How does one find their way again when they’ve lost the only purpose that has been driving them almost their whole life?

“You don’t have to live for the Burnish or the Promare anymore,” Galo reminds him, reaching to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You can live for yourself now.” 

Gosh, he makes it sound like it’s so _easy _to suddenly do just that. Lio lets out a mirthless laugh. “Even if you say that, I—”

“You can start by stopping that habit of trying to justify the bad things you go through,” Galo chimes in the moment he begins trailing off, reading what he’s about to say. “There are other ways to take responsibility than to be hurt the way you are, Lio.”

It sounds almost too good to be true. How else can Lio make up for his past mistakes than to learn and experience the pain and loss he’s caused? Lio doesn’t dare believe him, doesn’t want to cling on to false hopes that he knows would ultimately come back to bite him.

And yet.

“Do you really think that’s possible? After all I’ve done?” Lio musters up the courage to meet Galo’s eyes again.

Galo smiles, soft and assuring. “I do. I think you of all people, deserve a better second chance.”

A second chance. Forgiveness. They’re not something Lio realizes he’s been subconsciously seeking until it’s pointed out to him. He doesn’t regret the fires he’s caused, doesn’t regret fighting on behalf of a marginalized population to make their voices heard. It just... never did sit perfectly with part of him even all those years back. They’re disrupting the lives of people whose biggest sins are their ignorance, they’re potentially dragging bystanders who may already have too much on their own plates into a conflict they’re hardly educated on. Had their actions, at the very core, truly been any much different from those of the Freeze Force and the Foresight Foundation?

A walking mess of contradictions, that’s what he is. A constant clash between a cold, calculating logic and a conscience that cared too much.

It’s so exhausting to be him.

“You deserve to be safe too, Lio. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the past.” Galo finally moves to lay out their dinner. “If it really bothers you, think of staying with us as humoring us and putting us at ease knowing you’re away from people who could easily harm you. Do it for our sake if not your own.”

Lio looks, really _looks _at Galo to find his unwavering sincerity staring right back at him. Bright, blinding. He’s always been the blinding flame guiding him ever since they met.

“Will you,” Lio hesitates, swallows, “really not mind if I stayed over?”

He’s so helplessly drawn towards that flame, yearning to bask in the light and warmth it so readily offers. His resolve crumbles. He wants to go. He wants to spend the rest of his nights not tensed for potential assaults. He wants to be somewhere he can finally let his guard down completely.

Galo’s face lights up when the meaning behind Lio’s words dawns him. “Of course!! I’d love to have some extra companionship in the apartment!”

“I-I’ll pay a portion of the rent!!” Lio’s stumbling over his words, desperate to assure that he’ll repay him somehow, _somehow_. “I’ll help with the chores too!”

“Sure!” Galo beams as he pushes the container of food he’d prepared for Lio towards him. “But there’s plenty of time to talk about that later. Now let’s eat! Then we’ll go get your stuff and return to my place! Together!!”

Galo’s bolognaise pasta has gone cold, yet it strangely seems to have only added to the amazing balance of flavors. Lio eats with enough enthusiasm to make Galo laugh, unhindered even by how his heart pounds in his chest. This isn’t a turn of events he’d expected to happen so soon. Lio had been prepared to endure much more before allowing himself to even consider this an option. Surely, there’s still a long way to go before he’s worthy of unconditional peace. Surely, he isn’t allowed to be this excited and relieved from abandoning his resolve so easily.

But Lio wants to be selfish. Even if it’s just this once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cindy = cinders aka the totally unnecessary fire-related name that i thought was cool for a side character the first time lmao  
also will i ever be able to ignore the chance to shade capitalism when it presents itself?? guess not ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> on the side note!! happy new year everyone!! may this be a year of growth and peace to us all uwu


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly this chapter is just purely for self indulgence lmao im so tired of lio being hurt and hurting himself,,

Galo’s apartment is about ten minutes from the city center, in a district filled with rows of houses and other residential complexes. 

Entry into the unit is granted using a thumbprint scanner, which kind of amazes Lio since the last time he encountered a household door it still used a key and lock. They step into an entryway littered by exactly two pairs of shoes that are strewn carelessly across the floor, both which Galo hastily nudges aside with muttered apologies to make way for the ones they’re about to take off. 

Galo’s home is unexpectedly tidy everywhere else. Simple furniture, simple decorations. In the living room is a corner dedicated wholly to themed memorabilia; the top shelves of the cabinet for small items that Lio guesses are from the island country in the far East that Galo’s a huge fan of, the bottom ones filled with what looks to be official Burning Rescue merchandise. Galo gives him a brief tour of the single bedroom, the bathroom and toilet, and the kitchen. 

“But get this,” he tells Lio before he can point out that there doesn’t seem like there’s room for another person. He strides over to the sofa, presses a knob that releases the mechanism holding the two seat layers together, and moves to slide them into a new arrangement. “This bad boy right here is also a bed!” 

He’s so proud and enthusiastic over something so _simple _that Lio finds himself helplessly endeared. Granted, it does look like a very comfortable bed. Definitely more substantial than the sleeping bags Lio used back in the day. 

“That’s cool,” Lio says, which gets Galo even more whipped. 

“Ain’t it!! I got it at forty percent off from a sale a few years back!” he says, in a way that makes Lio wonder how long he’s been waiting to brag about it. “Now just gimme a moment to bring out the spare pillows and stuff,” Galo adds, turning to head towards his room. “I don’t really remember where I chucked them, though, so just make yourself at home in the meantime. You can even take a shower first if you want—just remember to try not getting hot water on your cheek as much as you can. I’ll get an icepack ready once I get everything sorted out.” 

Lio nods without a word, still a little bit dazed by how Galo’s already hustling around _doing things _. He could honestly use a shower, though. His last proper one was a solid twenty-four hours ago and he’s already been all over the place. His muscles are sore and he feels strangely grimy despite not having sweated much through the day. 

“I’ll get you a towel first then!” Galo chirps when Lio follows his suggestion for a bath. He disappears into his room, but calls out again soon after. “Do you have anything to sleep in, by the way?” 

“I brought the clothes I wore yesterday night, from the shelter donations,” Lio affirms, going to retrieve it from his bag now that he’s reminded of it. 

“Oh, nice.” Galo reemerges with a clean towel and hands it over to Lio. “Don’t forget to turn on the water heater before you go in—the switch is just next to the ones for the light and fan. You can throw your day clothes into the washer, too. I’ll be doing the laundry when I’m done later.” 

“Sure.” Lio hugs the towel close without thinking. It carries a bit of Galo’s scent after being in his closet for who knows how long. “Thank you, Galo.” 

Galo responds with a grin and a quick ruffle of his hair. “Take your time. I’ll be out here if you need anything.” 

It’s only when Lio’s alone again, standing in the shower stall with warm water blasting against the top of his head, that he figures out the reason behind the strange feeling he’s been having ever since he got here. All this while, in spite of everything they’ve been through together, Lio has primarily known Galo as a firefighter. As the hero who helped save Earth from another Great Blaze. As the hero who saved _him _. Being here in his home now, it suddenly feels so much more personal. This is where Galo eases into the side of him that has nothing to do with his work and public image. This is where he can relax and be the most himself. 

Yet Galo’s trusting him enough to let him be here with him. 

Lio later leaves the bathroom to enter a much warmer living room. It seems Galo has switched on the heating system while he’s away. He's also apparently found the extra sheets and pillows—which he’s stacked on the sofa bed—and is sitting cross legged on the floor tapping around on his cellphone when Lio steps out. He barely glances away from the screen to acknowledge his reappearance. 

“You can just hang your towel on the rack above the washing machine,” he tells him, very fixated with what seems to be a game where he has to time his taps to the beats of a song. “There’s a hairdryer in the drawer next to the sink too if you need it.” 

He’s done with his game the next time Lio steps out after drying his hair, staring into space with an ice pack in his hands as the television plays softly in front of him. Lio reckons the exhaustion from a day of being at work on top of his evening of going around is finally sinking in for him. He's glad he’s used to taking quick showers; he doesn’t want to prevent Galo from getting the rest he needs even by a minute more than necessary. 

“Hurry and bathe so you can take a break,” Lio suggests, tugging Galo out of his trance and gently picking up the cold compress from him. Galo blinks a few times, then grunts as he gets on his feet and stretches. 

“Honestly? At this point I think I'm too lazy to even shower,” he admits woefully. 

“Hygiene, Galo,” Lio nags, wincing when the cold of the ice touches his bruised cheek. Though, he can’t say he doesn’t understand Galo’s present feeling. He's got his own fair share of days when he’s so exhausted that he can’t even be bothered to clean up because that’d mean a few minutes further from the sweet embrace of slumber. “I’ll help you with the laundry when you’re done?” 

Galo hums in appreciation. “That’d be awesome, thanks.” 

So Lio watches the news while he waits for Galo, getting comfortable under the blankets brought out for him while he ices his cheek. It’s strange how it’s only a few days ago that he’s watched the same program in detention, yet it feels like he’s been out for a much longer time. So much seems to have happened in the span of two days, so many thoughts and emotions that he can barely sort out. So many changes, so many uncertainties piling up for him to face. 

Has he grown soft ever since he stopped being a Burnish, he wonders? 

He glances over by instinct when he hears Galo exit the bathroom, and immediately does a double take. Hold on. _Hold on. _There’s something very wrong going on here. Lio feels his balance shifting, the universe warping around him. 

“Galo,” he stammers, pointing with a shaky finger, “your hair's _wilted_.” 

“Do you really _have _to look so horrified by that?” Galo is clearly unimpressed by his reaction. He flips his hair, now a limp curtain hanging over one side of his head, over his shoulder. “It’s still fabulous this way!” 

It does seem like Galo’s been caring for it well when he isn’t gelling the hell out of it to look a solid foot taller. It's well combed and dried and it doesn’t look like the ends are splitting the way Lio’s hair would often use to. It's just a bit of a shock to see Galo without his signature spikes. Lio even once wondered how they were able to withstand a full-blown mecha battle without losing their integrity. To see them so easily defeated by mere water and shampoo truly is a shame. 

“You look like a wannabe rockstar from the past century,” Lio further teases, earning himself a protest and a joking threat to get out if he’s going to keep being an ass. But in all seriousness, seeing Galo like this, in a severely faded t-shirt and sweatpants with absolutely no care about keeping up an appearance—it only serves as another reminder to Lio. That he’s in a very personal space, that the Galo he respects and perhaps even worships to a certain degree has this very mundane side to his life. 

Lio’s spots the scars on Galo’s left arm when he turns away, his gaze lingering longer than he’d like to admit. Galo’s never found the need to explain and Lio’s never cared enough to ask, but now he knows true extent of what remains of the injury hidden under the sleeve he always wears. Jagged lines of discolored skin snaking around almost the entirety of his left arm. Scars seared so deep into his flesh that Lio doubts Galo can still feel anything there.* 

“You don’t have to look so worried,” Galo assures when he notices Lio still subconsciously staring later on. He once again takes a seat on the floor by the foot of the sofa bed, absently kneading the arm in question. “It doesn’t hurt anymore—hasn't hurt for a long time.” 

“...Burnish flames?” Lio asks despite knowing full well of the answer. Normal fire would barely leave a mark with the modern treatments available. He frowns when Galo hums affirmative. “And that hasn’t stopped you from being a firefighter.” 

And that hadn't made you hate the Burnish. 

“I’m not fit to be one if I'm intimidated by just this much,” Galo says with a nonchalant wave of his hand. “Getting a little singed is a small price to pay if it means being able to save lives.” 

Calling a burn of that degree a “singe” is definitely something expected of him. Galo barrels onward with life like he’s got nothing to lose. Always seeming so undeterred, always wholeheartedly believing that a burning spirit is truly all that’s needed. Lio wants to believe he’s right. He too, wants to believe that anything can be overcame with willpower and passion alone. 

“That’s true,” Lio agrees, then remembers how simpleminded Galo could be when it comes to risking it all for others. “But that’s only as long as you don’t take it too far. Your life is precious too.” 

“Yeah.” Galo smiles, crossing his arms and slouching a little more. “Thanks for the reminder, Lio.” 

Lio realizes the cold must be starting to set in for him; the heating system seems to only do so much and the shirt he’s wearing doesn’t look like it would make a difference at all. In the first place, why would this idiot wear something so thin when the temperature reading is at a single digit? Lio really can’t understand him at times. 

“Come on up,” Lio scoots aside and pats the empty space next to him on the sofa. “It’s warmer here.” 

Galo’s hesitant. “You sure you’re fine with that?” 

“It’s _your _home, Galo,” Lio reminds him with a fond huff. “I can’t be taking up the only sofa while you sit on the floor.” 

Galo doesn’t seem convinced. “But it’s_ your _space, Lio.” 

“I wouldn’t have suggested if it bothered me,” Lio assures. The familiarity of the situation would not occur to him until much later. “Besides, it’s easier to talk to you like this.” 

A short moment of more hesitation. Then Galo finally relents, moving to join him. The cushions shift from his weight when he takes a seat; he sighs in unrestrained content when he wiggles under the warm sheets. Really, he could’ve just worn some thicker clothes, Lio muses. Leave it to Galo to attempt withstanding the cold with his burning spirit like he does with every other challenge thrown his way. 

They fall silent for a bit, Lio simply listening to the drone of the TV and the tumbling of laundry in the washer. The domesticity of it all brings a strange ache of nostalgia to his chest. He doesn’t remember his childhood much, but perhaps these are some of the things he’d taken for granted back then. Quiet nights in a safe place, just spacing out to the sounds of running household appliances while waiting to settle for bed. 

“Oh, that’s a new one.” Galo perks up when a particular commercial airs. Lio watches as a couple of illustrated characters flash across the screen, inviting viewers to download and check out the game they’re part of right now. A snippet of the gameplay is revealed as well, and Lio vaguely recognizes it as the one Galo was preoccupied with earlier. 

“What’s it actually about?” Lio asks, genuinely curious because he, for one, doesn’t see what’s the thrill in pressing buttons to a set timing. Galo asks him to hold on, reaching for his phone on the floor so that he can personally demonstrate. 

“They’re called rhythm games,” he explains, shifting the screen slightly more towards Lio as he accesses the application. He passes the loading screen and enters the game’s home page in no time. “They usually have a storyline involving idol singers and the like, and we have to clear stages to read every consequent new chapter.” 

“And the ‘stages’ have to do with the tapping to the beat thing that you were doing earlier?” Lio leans closer to have a clearer look, until his head rests lightly against Galo shoulder. “Is it really _that _interesting, though?” 

“Look, Lio, sometimes we just want to see our faves’ efforts finally pay off and have their dreams come true.” Galo clenches his fist, evidently very hooked on whatever plotline that's going on in the game. “The rhythm stages are pretty fun too—I guess people like them because it gives them a chance to just zone out for a bit while still doing something? At least that’s how it is for me.” 

He goes on to explain about more game mechanics; how in-game items can be purchased with the points earned from clearing stages, how some mini games can be unlocked after fulfilling certain criteria, how players can spend points or even real money on a lucky draw system to obtain illustrations with rarity rankings. Lio still doesn’t quite understand it all, but he decides to let it go. Perhaps he will one day have the chance to experience it himself. 

He’s got to admit that the songs _are_ super catchy, though. 

Lio stays huddled against Galo as he watches him attempt passing some stages of the game, basking in his warmth and scent. His eyelids eventually grow heavy, and just as he begins drifting off, he hears the beeping of the washing machine. Galo mutters something about not worrying about it, Lio can just go to bed first while he deals with the rest of the laundry. It immediately brings a frown to Lio’s face. A promise is a promise. He—more regretfully than he cares to admit—parts from Galo’s side and stumbles back into the bathroom. 

Galo goes to prepare the laundry racks at the balcony while Lio transfers the wet clothes into a basket to bring them over. They do the chore in shared silence, both at this point too sleepy to want to focus on anything other than to finish this and lose consciousness. Lio’s body is on autopilot as he drapes article after article of clothing over the rungs, only using his brain enough to judge if something needs to be clipped in place to avoid being blown away overnight. 

They get it done in less than ten minutes, the cold adding to their motivation to get back inside as soon as possible. 

“By the way Lio,” Galo starts as he goes around turning off every switch and appliance they wouldn’t need for the night. “Would you like to have breakfast together tomorrow morning? I can just leave you something if you don’t want to wake early.” 

“I think I’ll pass on the waking early.” Lio lets out a huge yawn. “Thanks anyway.” 

“Aight then. I’ll leave a keycard for you too, in case you want to go wandering again in the afternoon.” Galo turns to head into his room. “Feel free to wake me up if anything urgent comes up later.” 

“I will,” Lio says without meaning a bit of it. “Sleep well, Galo. Don’t forget to set your alarm.” 

“Oof, thanks for the reminder.” Galo laughs nervously. “G’night, Lio. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

And, enveloped by fresh sheets and the faded scent of floral detergent, in a place where he knows he’s soundly safe, Lio does have a very pleasant night. 

** xXx **

The days spent living with Galo are almost dream-like, in a way Lio isn’t quite sure how to describe. 

It’s strange. They're so uneventful, yet living them brings a sort of ache to Lio’s chest. Quiet mornings spent teasing each other’s bed hair, afternoons spent alone strolling along the streets and watching the world move around him, nights chatting about nothing and everything. Things that should be so, so insignificant to any other person. 

The first time Lio wishes Galo a “welcome home” must also be the first time Galo hears someone welcoming him home in a long while. Lio had felt a burst of inexplicable warmth spread across his being then, his heart fluttering when Galo met his eyes, and smiled a smile he’d never seen before. 

“I’m home,” he’d said, in that soft, soft tone of his that Lio has now grown familiar with. 

Galo had sounded so incredibly happy. 

A man of simple needs, as always. Though Lio can’t judge him, not when he himself feels so shamelessly giddy just at the implication of being part of someone else’s household, part of such a precious segment of their life. Welcome home, where I’m waiting for you. 

But no, he can’t keep thinking that way forever. 

The longer Lio stays, the longer he’s pampered. He knows. He can’t spend the rest of his days only waiting for someone else, doing hardly anything other than freeload. This is all but a temporary refuge, a haven generously offered to him while he works to adapt into a new life where everything feels so overwhelmingly different and he’s left stranded within a sea of uncertainties. 

He meets with Meis and Gueira at every chance they’re available, mostly to discuss the opportunity Galo had presented them at the very start. Other times they’re busy insisting on taking care of him in whatever way they can; constantly asking if he’s okay where he is, if he’s got enough to eat, to wear. And he is, he does, Lio would assure with a laugh each time. It’s a given. Galo wouldn’t let him be any other way. 

Boss really has taken even more of a liking to Galo Thymos, they’d then exchange a look they think Lio doesn’t understand. 

Lio has, he can’t deny that. How can he not when he treats him with so much care and respect? Like an equal even though he’s so much more brilliant that Lio could ever hope to be, even though he’s someone Lio could never even dream of standing side by side with at where he currently is. 

Lio wants to chase after him, to prove to himself the most that he could still earn his place next to Galo. He wants to take that first, excruciating step in moving on. He's not a Burnish anymore, and nothing changes the fact that he once was. He's made a lot of mistakes, hurt a lot of people, and destroyed a lot of things. Sitting around and moping will not change that. Letting people vent on him will not change that. Continually blaming himself will not change that. 

The answer has always been right in front of him, yet his unrelenting pride has blinded him from it. No, he won’t turn away any longer. Atone for destruction with reconstruction. Atone for hurting people by saving even more. 

And so, one month after his release from detention, together with his brothers, Lio stands unwavering before the training facilities of Burning Rescue. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *kudos to the author of that one post who pointed out that Galo's burns are probably so bad that they destroyed his nerves and he probably doesnt feel anything on that arm anymore,,, op thanks im still sad 
> 
> also what rhythm game do yall think Galo would be addicted to!!!! i vote Idolish7 because,,,oof,,, the storyline,,,,the songs,,,, good stuff yall pls go check it out!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Lio goes to school and meets a stan i cant even make this up if i tried

Lio’s new roommates are pretty normal upon a first impression.

Gueira and Meis are assigned to different rooms as well; perhaps it's done on purpose to encourage them to mingle around with others. At any rate, Lio’s not too bothered. As long as he’s staying with people who know how to respect boundaries and keep their mess to themselves, he’s got no complaints.

The enrollment day of fire training isn’t too eventful. They're made to sit through hours of briefings once they report in and leave their belongings in their rooms, they’re given tours across the facility. It doesn’t take long for the excited faces around Lio to slowly dim as boredom and exhaustion begin to set in. Lio finds himself stifling some yawns of his own and suppressing a growing tinge of annoyance. The main instructor in charge of their orientation is trying too hard, speaking too loud, and being too obnoxious. There really isn’t a need to project such a forced image of aggression just to convince them that their regimen would be grueling; Lio’s sure everyone who’s signed up and passed the physical screenings are fully aware of what they’re getting themselves into.

He diligently sits through the entire program nonetheless, even making sure to take notes when necessary. Their daily schedule begins at six in the morning and ends at five in the evening. Classes are interspersed between physical training, lessons consisting of the basics and the theoretical sides of firefighting and rescue work. Trainees are allowed to eventually choose from a handful of electives as well, mainly on mission strategy, Gear piloting, and equipment maintenance. Their eligibility to choose between streams are dependent on their scores for each screening test segment.

Lio didn’t struggle too much on the written exams—those lessons during his detention _did _end up helping him—but he must admit to have ran into some troubles during the physical ones. He’s a bit stiffer compared to a few years back, his reaction time seems to be slightly slower than he remembers. His muscle strength and endurance seem to have improved from all the time spent doing community service, though, but Lio personally isn’t happy with how he can’t seem to pull off more explosive movements like he used to easily. 

It frustrates him, not being able to move the way he did when he’s just a little younger. It makes him wonder just how much had he depended on the Promare, and how much of his abilities then had been his own prowess.

He forces himself not to think too much about it. All he has to do is train harder if he’s that unsatisfied with his physical capabilities. He no longer has the luxury of moping around.

Lio’s enrolled into the FDPP’s academy under special circumstances, with the help of Galo and his team captain vouching for him. His expenses are covered through a grant—a scholarship of sorts. Everything he needs while training is supplied to him free of charge as long as he meets the performance standards expected of him. He's to take up extra lessons to earn his driver’s license on Sundays, the only full free day given to trainees. Lio knows he wouldn’t have the time and energy to think of unnecessary matters.

His day ends with a simple meal with his brothers at the dorm cafeteria. Gueira and Meis offer to keep him company for just a while longer, but Lio’s had enough social interaction for the day. He itches for a shower, eager to finally catch his breath and settle down to the music of a rhythm game.

Until he remembers he’s not with his usual source of music. And he still doesn’t own a phone yet.

Lio spends his entire time in the shower stall wondering how he should pass the night.

When he returns to his room later, the atmosphere there is...odd, to say the least. All three of his roommates are there, seemingly have been talking fervently among themselves when Lio enters. They stare at him and he stares back, raising an eyebrow in question.

Two of them then turn away to exchange a look among themselves, and they leave the room without another word. Lio doesn’t pay mind to any of it, stepping aside to make way. They're not the first ones who gradually recognized who he is and stared. Lio’s already ignored a dozen frowns directed at him from the older trainees and even some of the instructors. People are going to judge his decision based on his past as a Burnish, it can’t be helped. What's important that he himself maintains a clear grasp of his own goals and motivations.

“You’re the Burnish leader, Lio Fotia.”

Lio regards his remaining roommate, a boy several years younger than himself. What he senses from him isn’t the animosity he’s used to dealing with whenever someone remembers who he used to be, but rather a buzz of...excitement? Lio can no longer see where this conversation would go.

“I was,” he answers evenly, confusion growing when the boy looks at him even more starry-eyed.

“I knew it!! I _thought _you looked familiar when I saw you this morning!” his roommate hypes, and at this point Lio’s thought process has completely crashed. The boy then extends his hand towards him, face red. “I really!! Admire you!!”

Now this really is not within expectations.

“I’m?? Honored??” Lio hesitantly shakes, half wondering if this kid has somehow jumbled up his figures of admiration. “But can I ask, whatever for?”

His roommate retracts his hand and cradles it close, looking like he’s decided he’s never going to wash it ever again. “Um?? I just think you’re really cool!!! Fighting for your people like that!!” He then seems to abruptly notice his own intensity and grows embarrassed, averting his gaze and rubbing his nose with the joint of his finger.

“Sorry, I was still kinda young when I read about you on the news so maybe that's why you made such a lasting impression,” he says, sullen before he perks up again. “But I still think you’re amazing, though!! Especially when you turned yourself in, my respect for you really skyrocketed when that happened!”

“It’s honestly nothing to be admired for,” Lio protests weakly, also getting sheepish as the conversation progresses. He's truly not used to receiving such genuine sentiments from strangers, much less from someone who wasn’t once Burnish themselves. “It was just something I thought I had to do.”

“It’s because you were willing to take responsibility that I’m so impressed!” His roommate insists. “You owned up even though the things you’ve done have been largely circumstantial. And that’s right after you saved the world! That must’ve taken a lot of pride and courage.”

“It really wasn’t—” Lio begins but is immediately cut off with a louder “It is!!! Incredible in my eyes!! Please at the very least accept my appreciation!!”

And what else can he do other than try not to get even more flustered and mutter a thank you? He really is too helpless in the face of people who aggressively throw praises at him like this.

“And another thing!!” The boy continues, and holy _heck _this kid is even more of a hurricane than Galo, Lio couldn’t help but think as he only blinks and lets himself be swept away by the flow once again. “How close are you to Galo Thymos??”

_This_, though, Lio’s expected to hear at least once while he’s here. Galo’s the super rookie of his team when he first started, the hero of Promepolis within a mere few years of being in service. With the sheer amount of merchandise Lio has spotted while he wandered the streets and peeked into shops, he doesn’t doubt there’s at least one person in fire training who looks up to him. He's basically the local celebrity!

“We’re friends,” Lio answers, not one to reveal more unnecessary information that may cause troublesome misunderstandings. He figures if he mentions about being housemates with Galo for a bit the poor guy would lose his mind.

Sure enough, just knowing that they’re still in contact with each other almost sends his roommate into a fit. He makes an odd noise at the back of his throat, face growing redder with excitement.

“What kind!! Of a person is he???”

And for a moment, Lio’s stumped. It’s not a question he can answer as offhandedly as before. Galo...isn’t someone who could be summarized within a handful of words. Lio's certain that he’s yet to see many more sides of him; parts of him he may like, parts of him he may not. There’s still so much more to know, so much more to learn about.

“He’s as you see him on TV.” Lio makes his way to the bottom bunk he’d called dips on, taking a seat at the edge of his mattress. “Loud, obnoxious. Confident.”

He doesn’t notice how his tone softens as he goes on.

“He’s dumb, but not stupid. He's got an annoying habit of butting into people’s business, always trying to help even when it’s got nothing to do with him.”

He’s selfless, ambitious. He’s a nerd for his interests. He cooks well and keeps his home surprisingly tidy. He eats too much pizza for his own good. He’s too reckless for his own good.

“You seem really fond of him,” Lio’s told in the end. His roommate seems bemused, like he realized he’s accidentally stumbled upon something a bit too private. Lio ponders over his words for a moment. Well, yeah. He _is _fond of him. Otherwise he wouldn’t spend quite so much time with him, now would he?

“He’s been really good to me,” Lio says, hugging his elbows. “I hope to make it all up to him one day.”

“I’m sure you will!” His roommate assures, and he only smiles slightly in response.

“I’ll do my best.”

They engage in a little more small talk before Lio excuses himself, climbing on fully onto his bed and pulling the curtains shut. He lies on his side, pillow in his arms. Breathe in deeply, then out. Over and over.

He didn’t think he still remembers how to feel homesick.

**xXx**

The hardest part about fire training is arguably having to wake up at five in the morning to compete for the washrooms and shove breakfast down his throat within an hour.

Apart from that, though? Lio would say he’s doing pretty good. Physical training is tough, but he doesn’t think it’d kill him. He's used to physically demanding construction work, being almost constantly at it for five years. His current regimen might make use of completely different sets of muscles, but Lio’s long learnt to pace himself well and to avoid thinking of doing things like it’s a competition.

Most trainees seem to have been athletes as far as he can tell, all having the physiques one would expect to need for fire training. This also means that the younger ones in particular, are keen on showing off to one another throughout the first few days. Rivalries are declared and coarse encouragements are exchanged, and Lio can’t help marveling at how carefree youths could be, to treat job training like it’s some sort of social activity. They'll be stuck together for the next three months or so; he supposes it probably is worth building rapport among each other for the long term.

Speaking of rapport, Lio discovers the reason why his two other roommates left the room after a single look at him the night before. It turns out that they were trying to decide if Lio really is _the _Mad Burnish Lio, and upon finding out that he is and that the remaining guy is a huge fan, they just didn’t bother staying behind to watch him fanboy. It’s truly something Lio could never have imagined, but it’s nice to know that not every non-Burnish who recognizes him hates his guts. As insignificant as it is, it makes his chest feel just a little lighter.

Lio’s first week passes in a flurry of activities, each so new and energy-consuming that he could hardly stay upright at the end of each day. It’s almost impossible to muster enough focus to go over the textbook materials they’ll be quizzed on when he is uncomfortably _aware _of every muscle on his body and they are all aching. Lio has to admit that he does grow a little discouraged especially when the nightly headaches begin—until he remembers that even _Galo _has managed to pass the same program.

Now he definitely can’t lose. Even if it means developing a coffee addiction along with Meis and Gueira.

Sunday eventually rolls around, and Lio finishes his first driving lesson without a hitch. It’s just an online course about road rules and other such theoretical information regarding driving, held within the training facility’s computer lab over three hours. Lio’s supposed to revise the course contents over the week and pass the exam next Sunday if he wants to progress to the hands-on part of the lessons. He's not too worried about either; traffic rules seem straightforward enough to remember and he’s familiar with riding a motorcycle. He might be a little rusty after having not used his beloved Detroit for so long, but he’s confident he won’t fail. Mostly.

At any rate, that’s for future him to worry about. Present him exits the room with a slight, subconscious bounce in his steps, glad that his week is finally over. His heartbeat quickens just a little from anticipation as he heads toward the gates.

He hears the ruckus before he sees it. Galo’s standing to one side of the facility entrance, and he’s currently surrounded by a small group of excited firefighter trainees asking for autographs and training tips. He glances up just as Lio approaches, and his grin widens the moment he spots him.

“Sorry, you guys—I'll have to be going now!” he announces with an apologetic laugh. The trainees around him are fortunately understanding enough to instantly give him space, though they do give Lio strange looks when they realize he’s the one Galo’s been waiting for. The only one who speaks up is Lio’s roommate who also happens to be there, cheerfully telling him to have a great time and to be safe while he’s outside.

“Lio, you’ve made a friend!” Galo observes with bursting excitement once they've walked a bit further off to look for a place to eat. Lio wonders if it really is something that warrants that much disbelief in his voice.

“He’s my roommate,” he says, the corners of his lips curling upwards, nonetheless. “Kid’s pretty nice.”

“Look at you already going around getting along with people!!” Galo swings an arm across Lio’s shoulders in his enthusiasm. “You _need _to tell me everything that’s been going on while you were gone!!”

Lio’s now used to this sort of contact with him, their close proximity a comfort he realizes he misses just as of late. He lets himself indulge in the moment for bit before protesting halfheartedly. “Galo, it’s hard to walk like this.”

“Right, right.” Galo withdraws his arm, and Lio bites back a wince when cold air immediately fills his absence. “Sorry, it just feels like I haven’t seen you in a while?”

“It’s only been a week,” Lio reminds him, though he can’t say he doesn’t understand. It’s only been a week, yet the sleepy mornings and quiet nights and soft “welcome home”s and “I’m home”s already feel so far gone. It feels like Lio hasn’t heard the jingle of Galo’s mobile game in forever, hasn’t humored Galo’s unpredictable energy spikes in a long while. His days have never felt quite complete ever since he left the apartment.

His days have never felt quite complete without Galo in them.

They keep up their idle chatter all the way until they find an eatery they both fancy. Lio waits until they’re seated and have made their orders before he continues sharing about the shenanigans he’s witnessed during fire training, the friendly rivalries going all around, the one time Gueira ingested so much coffee to study for a surprise quiz that he was out of it for the next day and a half. Galo’s a great listener as always, knowing well where and how to react, never shy about sharing his own anecdotes of mischief he’s seen and participated in back when he was training himself. It’s been quite a number of years since Galo attended the academy, yet so many things seem to remain unchanged. The system, the course contents, the facilities—and the trainee behaviors most of all.

Lio finds it all strangely fascinating.

“But all that aside,” Galo speaks as he sips his melon soda, “I think you really are amazing, Lio.”

Lio doesn’t think he’ll ever be used to this compliment coming from Galo in particular. “What’s with that again, all of the sudden?”

“No, it’s just that it’s been on my mind for a while and—” Galo fiddles with his fingers, pausing a second to gather his thoughts— “You’re already doing so well even though you looked so lost just a little more than a month ago! I’m just really glad that you seem to have found a goal again.”

“And who do you think helped me the most to get where I am now?” Lio places his elbow on the table and rests his chin on his palm, a lopsided smile across his lips as he gazes at Galo. “You’ll always be the most amazing one in my eyes, Galo. People look up to you, people strive to be like you. You stay true to yourself no matter what you face.”

And I’ve always thought that someone like me will never be worthy of staying by your side.

Galo frowns the moment he catches the words Lio muttered last, ready to argue when Lio speaks first.

“But I don’t want to give up,” he declares, adjusting his posture to sit a little straighter, a little prouder. “I’ll catch up to you soon enough.”

And at that, Galo grins, eyes bright. “I’ll be looking forward to that, then!”

Then as his elation fades, he seems to suddenly recall something. There’s a sly lilt to his voice when he continues. “Though, aren’t _you_ being the romantic one this time, Lio?”

Lio gets the reference soon enough, and tilts his head in feigned innocence. “Why? Did it sound like a romantic confession?”

“Well, _yeaaah_.” Galo crosses his arms and squints, familiar enough with Lio by now to recognize certain signs indicating his verbal traps. “Kinda.”

Lio, on the other hand, isn’t nearly as bothered. “Good. I suppose it is one.”

...

“Huh?”

Lio remains calm, mostly because his brain hasn’t exactly caught up to his mouth just yet in the heat of the moment. He watches Galo’s reaction in fond amusement, heart beating just a tad faster as the words tumble out on their own, unrestrained as though freed by the realization that has finally dawned him.

“I’m in love with you, Galo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ivet says Lio's roommate is probably just my self insert and you know what!!! she's right. i can lose my wig at lio in my own fic, as a treat. 
> 
> also you guys!!!!!!! thank you so much for the 200+ kudos!!!! we've actually made it this far aaaaaaaaaaaaaa


	8. End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: we made it to 400 kudos you absolute madlads!!!!! thank you so much!!!!!

There’s scarcely a twitch in Galo’s expression.

“Oh. Um. Okay.”

“I’m being serious here, Galo,” Lio says, casually turning to thank the waitress as she places their food on their table as though _he _hadn’t said what he said. Galo runs a hand over his face, gesturing for him to not misunderstand with the other.

“I know. I... I just need a bit of time to process that.” He covers his mouth and takes a deep breath. Lio notices a wave of red gradually spreading from his ears to his cheeks. “This is bad. I _really _want to hug you right now.”

“It’s not the best place.” Some embarrassment is finally sinking in for Lio as well, though overshadowing that is a much stronger, much more intense sense of sheer, unadulterated fondness. “Bear with it just a little longer?”

Galo nods, but he refuses to meet his gaze. He absently shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, mumbling, “God, you’re so _unfair_, Lio. Why did you have to say that here and now...”

Why, indeed. Lio doesn’t know, either. He doesn’t know why he’d chosen this timing to tell him, why the words have insisted on spilling out before he even had a chance to ponder over them and their consequences. _He's in love with Galo._ The realization could’ve terrified him, could’ve sent him into fits of anxiety because what if that ruins everything between them? What if it’s just... not meant to be?

Yet right now, Lio has never felt as liberated. He doesn’t have to worry about what-ifs. He doesn’t have to fear anything when he’s with Galo.

They finish lunch at record speed, all the while hyperfocusing on their food and not exchanging even the slightest eye contact. Galo asks Lio if he’s got time once they’ve settled the bill, words blurred so badly together that Lio barely catches what he mutters. He responds that he’ll have the rest of the day free, he just maybe needs to get back by nighttime to do some last-minute revisions for a quiz.

Galo hums his acknowledgement, then grabs Lio’s hand and holds on as he drags him along to go retrieve his bike. Lio keeps a bit of distance between himself and Galo when they both climb on, sensing Galo’s tension and not quite sure what he should do. He’d never imagine he’d even make it this far, honestly—much less how he should handle everything else that happens afterwards. What’s Galo thinking? How should he thread the now ambiguous boundary between them?

“Galo,” Lio begins at one point, deciding that perhaps it’s best to slowly talk it all out, but Galo only asks to trust him and wait. 

There’s really not much he can argue with, so Lio listens and slips back into the strange silence.

Galo brings him out of the bustling roads of the city, into a highway, and eventually to the forests near the hills in the outskirts. He parks his bike under a tree that flowers despite the winter; its branches heavy with bloom serving as a landmark with the large contrast to the barrenness around it. Lio climbs off first, then follows Galo as they continue their way to this unknown destination by foot along some beaten paths.

It’s even colder here than in the city. Lio tugs his jacket a little tighter around his body, nose and throat stinging from the cool air. It'd snowed in Promepolis during the height of its winter, and although most of the snow in the city have turned into slush, patches of them still remain here. Untouched, barely even melting.

It takes a bit of time, but the trees eventually clear, and they come to stand before a frozen lake.

“This is...” Lio trails off, words lost to the breathtaking scenery in front of him. The lake’s surface is a pristine sheet of ice, reflecting the blue of the sky and glistening wherever sunlight hits. Opposite where they stand is the slope of a hill, one covered with an even denser forest of trees sprinkled with snow. Somewhere in the distance, a wild bird cry echoes through the air. The minutes seem to come to a standstill.

Galo’s told him about this place before, in one of the many insignificant conversations they’d shared to pass time, to get to know each other just a little more. Galo used to have a favorite lake he’d go to calm down when he gets much too agitated—but it had been the very same one they’d fallen into and completely evaporated during the whole Parnassus ordeal. The one now is the second lake Galo has managed to find and taken a liking to; he’d even once promised Lio to take him here one day when there’s a chance.

And to think that the chance would be now, under these circumstances.

Galo proceeds to step onto the ice and make a show of inhaling huge, wheezing breaths; wildly swinging his arms and slapping his cheeks. He even hollers toward the distance for good measure as he skates in wide circles, getting whatever he’s been suppressing thoroughly out of his system. Lio watches it all unfold without a word, just a tad bit worried about the way he’s acting.

He really worked hard controlling himself back there, huh? He thinks as it sinks in anew that this is the man he's fallen hopelessly and utterly in love with. 

Galo does manage to calm down enough, eventually. It’s only then that he turns around, and stomps back to shore to place both hands on Lio’s shoulders.

“Right. Now let’s do that all over again,” he says, in all seriousness. Lio, understandably, blinks at him in abject confusion.

“Do what??”

Galo's ears start turning red once more. “Say the things you said earlier!!”

Lio is still a little taken aback, but his amusement brings a lopsided smile to his lips. “You want me to confess my feelings all over again?”

“T-The previous one doesn’t count because it wasn’t in the right time and place!!”

“Do you _have _to be so particular?” And such a hopeless romantic, on top of that. Lio finds himself barking out a laugh, sparks bursting within his chest as Galo sputters more excuses about wanting to react timelier and properly and all kinds of nonsense. Lio’s mirth fades as he listens to him ramble on, morphing into a pleasant tingle that spreads all the way to his fingertips. He takes a step forward, shutting Galo up the moment he closes the distance between them.

“I’ll say it as many times as you want to hear, Galo Thymos,” he promises, holding his gaze as he reaches out to cup his cheek with his palm. “_My heart’s on fire for your love.”_

His voice comes out rawer than he expects, charged with so much emotion that he can’t seem to breathe right. He has the chance to hear Galo’s breath catch, to spot his eyebrows draw together—before he’s yanked forward and enveloped in a tight, almost desperate embrace.

“That’s not what you said,” Galo protests weakly. Lio smiles, struggling to free his other arm so he could hug back with just as much intensity.

“Same difference.”

“I can’t _believe _you actually just blurted all that so casually back there!” Galo’s sounds unnecessarily distressed. “What if I don’t feel the same about you!?”

“Hmm,” Lio gives it a brief, halfhearted ponder. “Then I’ll just eat my feelings until I die, I guess.”

“_Liooooo!!!”_

Lio lets out another laugh, only patting the back of Galo's head gently in response to that. Galo is still somber when he continues, arms hugging tighter by a fraction.

“But why me? You know I’m not—”

“You’re _enough_,” Lio insists, refusing to have _any_ of that now of all times. “You’re already more than I will ever deserve.”

“There you go again, yappin’ about deserving this, deserving that!” Galo immediately complains, moving to part them and face him properly as if he’s one to whine. “We’re having a Moment here so can’t you stop that for one hot second? Please??”

“Sorry.” Lio shrugs. “It’s still true, though.”

“Lio, I _will _kiss you if you don’t stop talking.”

“Can’t you do that even if I do?”

Galo obviously isn’t expecting that brazen return, immediately getting extremely flustered and making more incoherent noises. Lio calls his name once, just to get his attention for that split second.

Then he shifts his weight to his toes, and tilts his head up to press his lips against Galo’s.

The first kiss is just a peck, his eyes shut and breath held and Galo’s frozen in place.

The second kiss, Galo leans down and chases after his lips, their noses brushing as they try to adjust better to the unfamiliar posture and contact.

The third kiss, they hold each other closer, _closer_, and Lio’s heart soars.

**xXx**

As with everything else, Lio gets used to his new schedule and all its challenges.

He gets used to the headaches, the voices of his roommates, the taste of stale coffee he’s probably come to rely too much on to keep himself awake after the long days. He gets used even to the strain on his muscles, to the burn of ice on his skin, the weight of a gun in his hands. Everything, over time, he grows used to them all.

One of the more unexpected things is, though, the fact that Lio eventually chooses to specialize in command and support. His first choice had actually been learning how to pilot Rescue Gears, him thinking it’s probably not too difficult because Galo and his team make everything seem to smooth and natural. They’ve come so far with technological innovation, surely mecha suits are designed to seamlessly respond to their pilots’ wills. Surely all pilots must do is think of a certain movement and maneuver, and computers would interpret their brain signals and command the suits to respond. Surely, it can’t be too much harder than driving a normal vehicle.

Except it is. The first time Lio sits in the cockpit of their training Gear, he immediately notices how he's surrounded by a ridiculous number of knobs and cranks and handles. The good news is that the basic movements are mainly controlled a single pair of handles and pedals; the bad news is that Lio, for the life of him, can’t seem to understand how it’s all supposed to work in coordination. He almost launches himself out of the cockpit maybe about a hundred times through the first week.

He doesn’t even blame the instructor for later walking up to him and suggesting to consider transferring into another stream. Lio might fail his way out of training at this rate even if his grades for other classes are decent. So he ends up in the command and support course instead after some deliberation, and fortunately realizes he enjoys it much more than piloting. He’s eventually one of the top scorers for most mission simulations, his ability to take charge and lead calmly not lost despite all the time he’s spent inactive. He could still be brash and rely way too much on himself at times, too, but he knows it’s a work in progress. It will take time for him to unlearn these habits.

As for his relationship with Galo, nothing much has actually changed. They still hang out together when they have the chance, they still bicker, they still goof around and let loose through impulsive pizza binges. Perhaps the main difference is that their physical boundaries seemed to have thinned out; they hold hands more frequently now, they’re less awkward about huddling close together in public when it gets too cold, and the little pecks and kisses they exchange have begun to feel more comforting than embarrassing.

It's just the little things. The phone calls made through the payphone when he misses his voice, their outings that can now sometimes be called dates. The hair-touching, the hands on waists. Yet at the very core, it all still feels the same.

Three months eventually pass, through days of hard work, of frustration and doubt and unexpected fun.

Lio goes over his parts of the room one final time to make sure he hasn’t left anything behind, before zipping his duffel bag close and slinging its strap over his shoulder. His roommates have all left earlier in the afternoon after the graduation ceremony and a quick celebratory buffet at the cafeteria. He steps out and turns around to lock the door, swallowing the sudden sense of forlornness that assaults him.

It... really is over.

Three months isn’t a long time; it’s the daily hecticness that made it feel like it would never pass. Lio had somewhat expected it to resemble his time in detention to some degree, yet he ends up enjoying himself much more here. Training activities are miles more engaging than community service, he’s got Gueira and Meis with him this time, and it had been so much easier to get along with everyone else around him. Fire training hadn’t necessarily been an experience he genuinely wanted, but it’d turned out to be something he unconsciously needed. A sense of reconnection, a chance to act and feel his age.

A chance to simply be Lio Fotia, and not Lio Fotia of Mad Burnish.

Lio leaves after returning his keys and settling some final documental revisions at the office. His brothers have gone off just a bit earlier, hurrying to deal with some sudden issues with the apartment they’d managed to find and temporarily rent. Lio walks through the deserted hallways alone, trying not to think about missing the place too much. He exits the building, crosses the courtyard, and his pace once again quickens as he makes his way towards the gates.

Galo greets and congratulates him with a hug, one that’s warm and just a little suffocating. And it’s when Lio laughs, it’s when they part and he sees the infinite pride and affection in Galo’s gaze, that he feels like he’s finally come home again.

**xXx**

Early one particular morning not long after Lio’s completed his training, he nearly burns the eggs.

Galo reacts faster than any fire detector, rushing in to snatch the pan out of Lio’s hands and save the food before it all goes to waste. Lio apologizes, though he never quite manages to say more than an “I’m sorry.” He realizes that his mind is filled with static, his fingers trembling.

“You okay?” Galo asks when he notices his disquiet after plating their breakfast, waiting for him to nod before walking over to where he stands by the sink and circling his arms around his waist from behind. Lio sighs, leaning into the contact while he tries to get his thoughts in order.

“Just didn’t sleep too well,” he admits. He could feel the tremors from Galo’s chest when he responds.

“Nervous about your first day?” he asks, and snickers when Lio hums affirmative. He starts swaying side to side, coaxing Lio into some strange little dance. “Don’t worry too much about it, Lio! It’s not like it’s your first time meeting the team!”

Lio idly matches his movements, shifting his weight from left foot to right, right foot to left. “It’s still my first time doing the job, though.”

“You’ll be fineeee! You’re not expected to help out in operations so soon after joining, anyway,” Galo reasons. “And I’m sure the Cap’n and the girls would be more than excited to teach you how things work.”

“I’m just hoping I won’t disappoint them.” Lio broods. He truly hopes he wouldn’t hold the team back when it matters; he can’t drag them down when they too, have done so much for his sake even when they were still virtually strangers. Lio stands here as a result of their goodwill just as much as he does from Galo’s.

“It’s normal to struggle at the start when you’re still getting the hang of things,” Galo assures as he guides him to their table. “Some might take a little more time than others and that’s okay, too! Not everyone could be as cool as your boyfriend here!”

“Not everyone’s as reckless as my boyfriend here, either.” Lio reaches to pinch Galo’s nose lightly, fully familiar with the stunt he’d pulled on the very day he joined Burning Rescue. Rushing into danger with minimal preparation and scarcely a plan, then saving someone but still ending up being burnt in the process. It's truly something so on brand for him.

Galo only laughs gently to his retort, shifting out of his grasp to nuzzle against his hair. “But you love me for that, firebug.”

It’s only recently that he’s learnt to utter that as a statement and not a question. It's only recently that he’s learnt to accept that gosh, yes, Lio does love him for that. He loves him for all the heart he has to give, for all the silly things he does, and for even more, even the parts of him he still struggles to love himself.

Galo’s voice is soft, husky with a wonder Lio understands too well. Often Lio would lie in Galo’s arms, surrounded by his warmth and comfort, filled with an unrelenting sense of disbelief that he’s where he is. Often their kisses would end with silence basked in the very same amazement, with awed gazes and hushed voices followed by heated touches desperate to make sure it all isn’t just a dream.

And it’s not. They’re here, where they’re meant to be, surely.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me lose my appetite even more,” Lio protests, though they both know it’s just another excuse on his part. Lio has never quite gotten used to the pet names just yet. Galo happily obliges, nonetheless, and they finally sit down to have their toast with eggs just a little overcooked.

They’re silent as they eat, as they often are. Don’t speak while you chew or you’ll bite your tongue, Galo would nag despite doing the very same thing himself. Lio savors the present simplicity, basks in the normalcy and warm morning sunlight seeping through the windows. He listens to the idle hum of the refrigerator, the soft drone of the ventilation system. The scent of their favorite hand soap wafts mutedly in the air.

Lio breathes. His hands have stopped shaking.

“Have you gotten everything?”

Galo asks later as he waits for Lio to tie his shoelaces at the entryway. Lio pulls the final knot tight, then stands up to pat his bag and pockets. ID, documents, a water bottle. A foldable umbrella, boxed leftovers from dinner the night before to be heated up for lunch. His wallet, keycard.

“I think so.” He seems to have brought all the important things, anyway.

Galo nods, then moves to push the front door open. He turns around, and holds out a hand to Lio.

“Let’s go, then!”

And it’s like this, hand in hand with Galo Thymos, that Lio takes his first step towards a new tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [oh my heart'sss on fireeeee for your loooooOOOOVEEEEE ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aKSxbt-O6TA)
> 
> is anyone even surprised that this song and that one line is the main inspiration behind the entire fic hhh 
> 
> anyways!!! we've made it til the end!!! ,,,,wow,, im feeling kinda bittersweet about it now too,,  
i'll probably just sap on my twt so this doesnt get too long but really, thank you all so much for staying with me through the fic! thank you so much for all the kudos, the kind comments, and of course, all the screaming haha faskdfj  
writing Heartbeat has helped me through a pretty uncertain time of my life, so it is my utmost wish that it could help comfort others as well. I hope reading this has been as healing of an experience for you guys as it has been for me. Again, thank you so much for reading everyone! I'll see you guys in my next work!


	9. Side story #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha guess who ( ͡• ͜ʖ ͡• )
> 
> ive got some ideas for side chapters left so just thought i'd post them here too for convenience sake! please i just dont want to come up with another title and summary fj;aksdja;sd  
heads up that the ending still feels mad wonky to me tho but i really have no clue how to fix it and its not the highlight anyway so??? sike i guess??????

Lio smells the smoke before he sees it.

Galo’s already running towards the direction of the scene before Lio could even curse their luck for stumbling upon a fire on their rare day off together. Lio has no choice but to follow after him, slipping through the crowd that’s forming along the streets to watch it all unfold.

The affected building is about four stories tall, smoke pouring out from the windows on the top floor. Lio sees that an evacuation is already underway; employees rushing out into the open with panic-stricken looks on their faces. It seems that the people in the adjacent buildings have also begun their own evacuation procedures in case the fire spreads.

Lio’s just about to take a breath of relief. It looks like everything’s under control. Burning Rescue should also arrive soon. They shouldn’t be forced to step in.

And then a scream. A frantic cry for help. Someone is still trapped within the fire.

Lio catches Galo’s arm just in time before he charges in. “Galo, wait!”

He should already be used to this, this incredibly reckless drive to rescue of his that borders on insanity. Yet Lio’s pulse pounds in his ears, his thoughts sizzling to sheer static at the idea of Galo rushing right into a fire with absolutely nothing to keep him safe but intuition and the layer of clothes on his back.

“Take care of things here, Lio,” is all Galo says before pulling his arm from his grip and dashing right into the building.

It immediately elicits multiple gasps of horror from the crowd—that is, until someone suddenly recognizes the madman.

Lio hears Galo’s name passed around the people like a prayer, accompanied by sighs and exclamations of relief. It’s Galo Thymos from Burning Rescue! He’s a professional! He’ll definitely be fine, he’ll definitely be able to save them!

Lio wants to share that comfort, wants to wholeheartedly believe that Galo, of all people, is able to deal with something like this with ease. They’ve been on trickier missions, navigated through fiercer blazes and more hopeless situations compared to this.

But they had also been better equipped for those. They had access to protective gear that withstands even Promare flames, to Matoi Tech and freeze bullets, to everything that’s designed to make sure they aren’t immediately burnt to ashes themselves. Galo, currently, does not.

The seconds seems to slow to a drawl. Lio stares at the exit, waiting, waiting. Willing for Galo to stumble out, a stupid, triumphant grin over his face as he carries the trapped victims to safety. One minute, maybe a thousand. The fire rages on, concrete popping as it slowly eats through. Why hasn’t Galo reappeared? Why’s it taking so long for the FDPP to arrive?

Lio feels like he’s about to lose his mind. Has something happened even to Galo? He should’ve gone in with him instead of being rooted in place unable to think like the absolute fool he is. Think. He must decide now, before he regrets, before it’s too late and—

The wail of sirens approaching yanks him out of his haze of thoughts. It’s also this exact moment that Galo bursts into the open, somehow carrying three adults on his arms and back.

This time, Lio’s body unfreezes and he runs over. He eases a person from Galo’s hold, receiving a breathless brief from him in the process. They’ve inhaled a bit too much smoke, but it shouldn’t be serious. The person Lio’s carrying got burnt on the leg while they were trying to find a path out. The paramedics aren’t here yet; they should provide whatever first-aid they can in the meantime.

Lio’s finally able to function now that he’s back in familiar territory. They bring the victims a safe distance away from the scene, then setting them down and methodically checking for injuries they should tend to. Lio goes through each procedure on autopilot, until he hears a call of his name and looks up to see Meis and Gueira hurrying towards them.

“Boss?? And Galo??” Gueira is understandably confused, probably about to ask if it isn’t their day off when he decides there’s more important matters to acknowledge. “What’s the situation here?”

They relay each bit of information they’ve gathered, and the other two nod before promptly taking over. They also finally address the fact that Galo’s covered in soot and ash and coughing every now and then, his clothes and hair singed. Despite his multiple assurances that he’s alright, Meis manages to gently threaten him to go with the paramedics when they arrive and get checked, just in case.

Things begin to calm down soon enough. Burning Rescue puts out the fire in no time, the onlookers and media eventually disperse, the ones caught in the fire are brought to the nearest hospital. Lio’s asked to go home first, Galo promising that he wouldn’t take too long and once again leaving before Lio can get a word of argument in.

He's later advised to leave by the other Burning Rescue members as well, assuring that they have everything under control and he should savor the remainder of his rest day. So Lio, again in somewhat of a daze from the sequence of events, complies and makes his way back to the apartment alone.

He collapses on the couch the moment he steps into the living room; sitting hunched over in the dark, simply trying to breathe. His fingers find their way to his hair, and he pulls until it hurts. He doesn’t know how to sort them out, these ugly emotions swirling and pooling in the pit of his stomach. He wants to scream, puke—anything to just get rid of them.

Time passes—though how much of it, Lio isn’t sure. The lock to their front door eventually clicks, and Galo steps in calling out to him, asking why hasn’t he turned on any lights.

Lio looks up, spots the bandages peeking out from under his sleeves. And then he’s storming over before his thoughts could process, grabbing Galo by the collar of his jacket.

“What. The hell was _that_,” he demands, quietly fuming. Galo’s gaze is unwavering as he stares down at him, as though he’d been expecting this.

“I did my job as a rescuer,” he responds calmly, like it’s a matter of fact. Blood rushes to Lio’s head; his grip tightens until fabric burns into his skin.

“Without _any _preparation?” He just barely stops his voice from rising to a shout. In contrast, Galo remains steady, unmoved.

“There were lives at stake, Lio. There was no time.”

There had not been time, Lio knows too. A moment of hesitation would’ve costed the lives of those trapped in the blaze. But a misjudgment would’ve also endangered the rescuer himself. Galo is a seasoned firefighter, one of the most instinctive Lio has ever come across. He’s highly trained, highly skilled, and highly familiar with rescue operations. If there’s anyone who knows best how to handle this sort of emergencies, it’s him. 

And yet.

Lio exhales an exhausted breath, slumping forward as he feels his anger leave him all at once. In its place, is the fear it’s managed to temporarily push back, now crashing over him like a tidal wave.

Fear. It’s the first time Lio has truly feared fire.

“There’s no point of me doing what I do if I can’t protect you, Galo,” he mutters, hands trembling as he leans his forehead against Galo’s chest, unable to bring himself to see the expression he’s wearing. “_There’s no point_.”

Galo cradles the back of his head with his palm, tugging him a little closer. “You have to trust that I’ll come back to you.”

“And if you don’t?” Panic sneaks its way into Lio’s voice despite his efforts to suppress it. “What am I supposed to do then?”

Of course, it’s an impossible question. “...I’m sorry, Lio.”

His apology jerks Lio into a moment of sudden self-awareness. Those had been very unfair of him to ask.

He straightens, releases Galo’s jacket. Unable to meet his eyes. “No, I... I shouldn’t have lost my temper too. I’m sorry.”

He turns away, desperately grasping for an excuse to leave, even if it’s just for a moment. His current state terrifies even him; if he stays any longer who knows what else he might blurt out by mistake. “I-I’ll go get the bath running. You’re still a mess; you should go clean up.”

He starts to head off, but Galo grabs his wrist and stops him before he can take another step. “Lio, wait.”

Lio closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. He doesn’t try to break free.

“I made you worry,” Galo admits, sullen, “I really am sorry.”

Lio feels a pang of guilt of his own, hating that Galo’s apologizing this much. He tries for a laugh and fails rather pathetically, but he faces him and shoulders on regardless.

“You _always_ do things without thinking them through, so what’s with that now of all times?” He works to keep his tone light, crossing his arms when Galo lets go. It’s Galo’s turn to have trouble meeting his gaze, his brow furrowed as he lowers his hand.

“I realize I’ve done goof extra bad this time.”

“There were no deaths because you moved fast and did what you did, though,” Lio reminds him because no matter what he personally feels, that still remains a fact. There’s no point in him being upset over something that’s already happened—and with positive results, even. It could’ve been a lot worse; it’s irrational for him to be like this.

Galo sneaks a careful glance at him, studying his expression. “It’s still bothering you.”

Lio sighs, gaze downcast as he digs his nails into the flesh of his arms. “And what if it is?”

Tentatively, Galo reaches to brush strands of hair away from Lio’s face. “Why?”

“These risks are part of our duties, Galo.” Lio’s fully aware of that, yet it does not change that he’d felt like he’s about to go mad from panic earlier. “It’s on me if I can’t even accept that despite being in this line of work. Having these sentiments hold you back is the last thing I want.”

“But they don’t,” Galo assures, offering a tiny smile when Lio gathers the courage to look at him once more. “If anything, having someone worry for me makes me really happy.”

“It’s because you don’t do it enough that I have to worry on your behalf too, idiot,” Lio retorts, though sounding less angry than he’s wearily fond. Galo laughs in apology, reaching to envelope his hands with both of his own.

“Thank you, firebug” he says; warm, soft. In a way that never fails to make Lio’s heart ache and _ache_. “Though, I do have to admit that I understand how you feel.”

Lio blinks at him, silently prompting him to continue. Galo turns a little red, as he always does when he starts to get flustered.

“Whenever we get dispatched together,” he begins haltingly—and perhaps, Lio notices, even with a little guilt, “I always try harder to finish things quickly so you wouldn’t have to step in.”

“Is that why you always seem to argue more whenever I’m the one trying to direct operations?” Lio couldn’t help but deadpan because no matter how much of the world he’d willingly give to him, how much he’s _hopelessly infatuated_ by him, it had still been frustrating as hell especially at the start. Everyone else assures that Galo’s just thickheaded like that and that him disobeying orders is nothing new, but it’d come across a little differently to Lio. It was as if Galo’s unintentionally telling him he’s not good enough, that there’s always a better way to do things.

Lio’s gotten a lot more used to it by now, but the nagging insecurity persists.

Galo’s admittance brings forth many mixed emotions. Relief, exasperation, endearment. Lio can’t decide which one to address first.

“Ah.” Galo shrugs, sheepish. “You’ve noticed.”

And at that, Lio could do nothing else but bend over and let it all out in a huge sigh.

“Galo, I think we should really talk about this,” he starts once he regains his composure, which prompts a look of slight horror from Galo.

“Oh, no. Is this the Talk?”

“I have no idea what that even _means_,” Lio finally manages to muster a genuine laugh, switching their hold so he can pat Galo’s hands in comfort. “Don’t worry too much about it; I just think we’ve got something we should sort out.”

“That’s still not very assuring,” Galo remarks, though Lio could tell that he doesn’t fully mean it, judging by the lopsided smile on his face. “But if it’s something we should clear up while we still can, I’ll do my best to listen.”

Lio nods, huffing a soft breath as Galo leans forward and presses a soft peck on the top of his head. That’s right—Galo might be brash, might be mindlessly reckless if the situation calls for it, but once everything calms down like this, he’s always willing to listen. Lio himself is constantly trying to learn this from him. The fear, concern and anger will always fade eventually. Just let it all flow away, and he’ll be able to think again.

Don’t let it fester, just talk it out.

“I’ll make some coffee while you shower, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also dear lord this whole thing is literally just "Galo looks here, Lio looks there, their hands do stuff" huh fkasjdfkljsa pls dont roast me i know what i did i promise fsdkjhf


	10. Side story #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall did it, this fandom finally got me with its sheer h0rny energy fkasjdf;akd
> 
> yes this is the M rated chapter no one asked for hhhh its pretty vanilla tho because i physically cannot get overly thirsty on main hhh 
> 
> warnings for a lot of commas, awkward first times, and??? an unexpected shelf-ful of Feels??????? idek lmao ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

He doesn’t think it’d ever sink in completely for him.

Galo has always seen Lio as someone who was infinitely unattainable, never within his reach. Blink, and he’d run off somewhere, doing something or another. Even when he was held back by changes and lost in a world that must’ve seemed too huge and too unfamiliar, Lio barely ever stayed still. Galo wonders if the restlessness is something ingrained into his nature, a result of his nomadic lifestyle as a Burnish.

It doesn’t ever sink in completely, the fact that Lio had chosen—_chosen_—to settle down with him. That Lio would want him—_him_, who only ever knows how to talk big but never really does things as he imagines, who isn’t the smartest page in the book and often ends up acting without thinking and having to have his ass covered by everyone around him. Him, who’s just...him. Galo Thymos. An everyday firefighter, an everyday idiot.

Yet _you’re enough, _Lio would always assure, always trying to convince him that he is. Not perfect, but enough. Galo wants to be, for him. He wants to be more than enough for him, wants to give him everything he has and more because it’s the least of what he deserves for genuinely loving someone like him.

He wants to give him everything, because part of him is afraid that if he doesn’t Lio would one day just up and leave. That Lio too, would just become even further away from his reach.

It is quite comedic, to tell the truth. Lio seems to think very similarly when it comes to him. They’re constantly tripping over each other, desperately trying to prove themselves worthy. They must be a real nuisance to watch, Galo would sometimes think to his own amusement. Just a couple of idiots trying their damndest and probably ending up very corny in the process.

“What’s funny?”

Lio asks with a light poke against Galo’s cheek. Galo realizes he’s been grinning by himself like a fool, and grins even wider as he moves to pat the small of Lio’s back. Lio’s weight on top of him is familiar, reassuring. The TV drones on in front of them, the drama they’re halfheartedly watching now reaching the height of its conflict.

“Just thinking about how silly we are sometimes,” Galo says. Lio raises his eyebrows.

“I think it’s our charm,” he says, a glint of mischief in his eyes. Galo only laughs in assent, absently turning his attention back to the screen. The mood between them is pleasant, laidback—as it often is on quiet evenings like this.

“No but for real, though,” Lio continues after a short pause, after deciding he's still curious about it. He moves to hold Galo’s head still so he could study his face. “You seem a little strange today. Did something happen?”

“Don’t know.” Galo’s gaze briefly drops to Lio’s lips before he glances away. Lio’s so close. “I’m just?? In a Mood?”

“What sort of mood?” Lio, as always, is patient, indulging. Always ready to help Galo sort out the emotions he feels but can’t put a name to, always ready to help align his thoughts when they scatter too wildly. Galo takes a breath; an ache like a string pulled taut in his chest.

“A mood to love you?” he manages to say without wincing too hard, playful. Lio, in response, feigns a look of abject shock.

“You mean that’s not a constant!!” he exclaims, a hint of a smile helplessly playing across his lips. It’s always a delight to see, this side of him. Lio, the former leader of the Burnish who once seemed so cold and distant and overly serious—is actually this warm, jovial, and cheeky, once he lets you past his walls.

Galo feels the ache in his chest well up, morphing into something else as their mirth fades, and he tugs Lio in for a kiss.

Every kiss they share still tends to feel somewhat like their first time; their inexperience still evident despite all their practice, their noses still getting in the way more times than they’d like to admit, a hint of shyness persisting within their contact. Galo kisses Lio like he’s afraid that anything more than this would be too much, too unbearable. This is already enough to make his head spin and send his heart pounding in his chest, robbing him of any ability to think. Any further and _what_, he’d combust? Straight up exit his mortal body and ascend?

Neither of them has ever asked to do much beyond kissing. There were the hugs and cuddles, the hands that would sometimes roam out of daring adventure—but never anything more. There’s hardly really been a want, much less a need. They're happy enough as things are, never quite having the urge to push the boundaries of their intimacy.

Tonight’s the first, the first time Galo feels brave and stupid enough to ask if they could.

“Lio,” Galo gulps, wills himself to hold his gaze, “would you like to do it with me?”

Their faces are mere centimeters apart, Lio’s breaths ghosting across Galo’s lips. The mini hims in Galo’s mind are currently beginning to break down and set things on fire.

“Do you _want _to do it?” Lio sounds _and _looks steady, miles calmer than Galo is. The only thing that betrays his demure appearance is the rapid beat of his heart that Galo could feel through their shirts.

“I...” Galo trails off, grasping for the right thing to say. “’I want to be closer to you.”

“Have you ever done it before?” There’s no judgement in the question, just simple curiosity.

“Only by myself sometimes,” Galo says, then his cheeks and ears burning as the next bit leaves his mouth unwarranted. “Thinking of you.”

“Thinking of me?” Lio asks. In a tone that, for reasons unknown, compels Galo to explain himself.

“Lio, when a man loves another man very much...”

“Yeah?”

“He might sometimes get caught up thinking weird things...”

“Such as?”

“Such as,” Galo tries, extremely close to overheating and ceasing to function before he notices the wry, amused smile Lio wears while he watches him. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“I can’t help it,” Lio says, gaze soft and brimming with affection. “My baby bear’s just too cute when he’s flustered.”

Galo finally fails to withstand the embarrassment and covers his face with his hands. _“Liooooo!!!”_

His protest draws a breathy, muffled laugh from Lio. Galo just about wants to fade into the couch and cease to exist for a day or two, when he feels Lio’s weight on him disappear. The cushion by his feet dips slightly when Lio settles there instead.

“But to tell the truth? I’ve actually,” he begins haltingly, kneading his thumb against the flesh of his forearm as he stares at his knees, “thought about you, too.”

It takes a moment for its underlying meaning to process. Galo peels his hands from his face, slowly moves to sit up as well. “You...did?”

It's finally Lio’s turn to blush, and he blushes _hard_. “Can you blame me?”

The tiny versions Galo in his head all stop screaming simultaneously and simply freeze in place. Lio’s...thought of him? While he was doing something extremely private? For a while, Galo’s brain fails –refuses? – to compute. Sure, they’re dating now and they’ve been together long enough to no longer be bothered by things like close contact, nudity and mutual flirting. Galo knows that Lio loves him, every bit as much as he adores him. He knows, Lio always makes sure he does.

It just never really sinks in.

“What did you imagine?” The words slip out before Galo could put a filter to them, as soon as he thought of wanting to meet whatever expectations Lio had, somehow.

Lio glances at him, contemplating his answer. Galo holds his breath when he wordlessly scoots closer, back within his arm’s reach. He doesn’t breathe even when Lio reaches for his hand, and guides it towards himself.

“You touching me,” he says, very quietly. He presses Galo's palm against his cheek. “Here.”

Slides it lower, down the length of his neck. “Here.”

Lower, his chest. “Here.”

Even lower.

Galo is genuinely expecting cogs and springs to start bouncing out of his skull at this moment. Lio’s grip around his wrist trembles faintly. Galo has no idea what’s the next thing he should do, how he should react to this sudden revelation.

“Galo, I—” Lio speaks after a moment of charged silence, perhaps deciding that if he doesn’t say something they’ll both be sitting there motionless for the rest of the week. Galo absently notes how rare it is to see this bashful side of him; Lio has always been so smooth and confident when it comes to their relationship. Lio now hesitates at almost every word, his complexion dusted with a lively pink. “I want to be closer to you, too.”

Oxygen enters Galo’s lungs in a sharp rush. Lio wants it, wants _him_. The little Galos in his head have once again started breaking down. Galo withdraws his hand, desperately, desperately trying to process it all. Okay, he’s gotten this far. What next? What should he do next?

Safety. Safety first. They do not have all the materials prepared. Neither of them had expected this.

They shouldn’t go all the way tonight, he hears himself say, a bit of franticness laced at the edges of his voice. They don’t have lubrication nor protection. And they’re both inexperienced. It might not end up well.

“Then let’s not,” Lio agrees easily, his gaze once again adopting the quality of amused fondness. “Let’s just take things slowly.”

Galo nods, then gets on his feet, already a little dizzy at the thought of what’s about to transpire. He's equal parts excited as he is kind of terrified; of the next level of intimacy, of the potential exposure of yet another layer of vulnerability. It must be as new to Lio as it is to him; Galo can’t help but wonder if it would become too much for either of them and they might end up having to call it off halfway.

They move to his bedroom, because doing anything explicit on the lounge feels much too exposed and overwhelming to Galo, currently. With his everyday nature, this meticulous side of him isn’t always expected even to himself. The couch would just be more difficult to clean if it comes to it, he tries to reason in his head. The voices of mini hims simply holler right back at him.

The mood between them has transformed into something slightly awkward by the time they’ve settled down on the mattress, facing each other with their legs crossed and knees touching. They’re barely breathing, hands sweating and clenched into loose fists. Galo squeezes his eyes close and gathers the last of his wits with a deep breath. Hopefully it’s still salvageable.

“So we’ll start?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Lio says with scarcely a pause, and then they’re leaning in to meet the other in the middle.

Galo had not felt like this before, not even during the first time they kissed. Their tension is evident in the quiver between their contact, the careful way they meld into each other’s touch. They kiss like they need it, but also like they fear it. Like an intricate dance, their bare feet on a floor of broken glass shards. Threading lightly, with overwhelming caution.

“We shouldn’t,” Lio eventually murmurs between gasps for air, voice husky and wonderful and with just a hint of a chuckle, “have to be so nervous. It’s just us.”

It’s just them. It’s always been just them, in this bubble of intimacy. Galo dares to cup his palm over Lio’s nape, his fingers finding soft, slightly damp hair as he brings him just a little closer, closer. A small noise escapes from the back of his throat when Lio’s lips gradually part for him, and he drinks him in.

The sensations of Lio’s teeth gently nibbling on the flesh of his lips, his tongue nudging shyly against his own—they’re electrifying. Galo’s heart feels like it’s about to smash through his chest, blood flooding to his head. It's too much, yet at the same time not enough, can never seem to be enough. He can’t breathe.

His nose feels blocked. He seriously can’t breathe.

Lio blinks at him in question when he abruptly draws back; bleary, eyes half-lidded. Galo runs a knuckle under his nostrils, feels thick moisture smear across his skin.

His nose is bleeding.

“Um,” is all he manages to say, half bracing himself to die from mortification the moment Lio begins cackling at his expense. Yet the laughter doesn’t come, instead he finds Lio scrambling for the box of tissues on his nightstand, his trained hands immediately moving to tilt his chin up and pinch the bridge of his nose when he returns to him.

“Too intense?” Lio asks, tone softly empathetic. Galo bunches up a wad of tissues and reaches to wipe away the blood, nodding as much as he’s capable of in his position.

“Sorry,” he says, glum thinking he must’ve screwed up and completely destroyed the mood they’ve both so carefully cultivated. Lio still throws no blame at him, instead brushing his hair aside to press a fleeting peck over his temple.

“Don’t be,” he says, “if we had gone on just a bit longer I think I would’ve passed out myself.”

“This is so much harder than it sounds,” Galo can’t help but whine a little later, once the bleeding has stopped and they’re back seated facing each other. His heart isn’t fully in the complaint, though, especially when he finally registers how swollen Lio’s lips are from their exchange.

“It is,” Lio agrees with a bemused, wayward smile of his own. “It felt nice, though.”

They’re still fresh in Galo’s memory; Lio’s tiny gasps for breaths, the way he’d reached for him, running the pad of his thumb across his cheekbone, the feel of his tongue in his mouth.

“Do you want to continue?”

It’s arguably the second brave and stupid thing Galo’s doing that night. He's aware that pushing it won’t do him any good. Things like this surely require the right timing, the right atmosphere. Maybe it would’ve been best if he just called it off there and then and offer to get back to it when they have a better idea of what they should be doing, along with a determination that wouldn’t falter at silly blunders like this.

Yet Lio’s expression mirrors none of the wariness of his own, his gaze steady, his posture relaxed. If Galo isn’t thinking even more into it, he’d say he even looks charmed, endeared. Patient. With him, always.

“I don’t mind, Galo.” 

Galo feels a lump forming in his throat. Despite how he acts daily, like he wears his heart on his sleeve and even _flaunts _it—this sort of insecurity of his isn’t something he likes to show. After all, it’s easier to hide it. It wouldn’t needlessly lead to hurt feelings, it makes it easier to fake acceptance until it’s real. It’s easier the louder he laughs, the dumber he acts. It keeps the spirits high, the tension at bay.

It’s sometimes as though Lio has somehow picked his way through his defenses, found the little vulnerabilities that he had so desperately buried, and nursed them close to his heart. And Galo lets him, because Lio trusts him with his own fragile pieces in return. As if there’s been an unspoken agreement. I’ll guard this part of you for you, so please guard this part of me for me.

“Let me take the lead this time?”

It wells up within him like an instinct, close to a carnal desire—this sudden want to give, to let Lio feel all the pleasure he can currently offer in return for all his patience in being with him. Galo’s admittedly not as skilled in the art of pampering as Lio, instead preferring to make things casual and not look too deliberate. He’s not sure what’s the most he can do for him in this situation, but he still wants to give him his all. This once, at least, let him try.

Galo knows himself; he’s terrible at keeping his thoughts from showing on his face. Lio must’ve seen them, glimpses of the contemplation that’s led him to this point. Galo watches as he blinks, seemingly surprised by his sudden assertiveness before a sort of understanding dawns him.

“Galo, I would let you do _anything_ to me.”

It's stated in a helpless confession, a bit like it’s a new realization even to him. His eyebrows are drawn slightly together, the slightest smile on his lips.

“I—” Galo tries, immediately finding himself at a loss for words. _No,_ a voice in him begs. Don't enable him like this, don't make him believe like he could because surely he’s not—

“Galo,” Lio's touch and quiet call of his name jerks him out of his thoughts, and he could only stare, slightly dazed. “You surprisingly think too much at times like this.”

“It's because it's _you_, Lio,” Galo sighs heavily, weighed down by the reality of it. “It's because I’m doing this with you that I—”

“This is as new to me as it is to you,” Lio reminds him, once more finding his hand and guiding it to his chest. Under Galo’s touch, his heart beats like he's just finished running a marathon, still lively with anticipation. “But I trust you. So trust me, too.”

Galo searches his face, searches for the subtlest signs that may give away any contradictions—and finds absolutely none. Lio means what he says, with everything he has. “Promise me you won’t just keep quiet and bear it?”

“I'll let you know if I don’t like what you’re doing,” Lio assures, shifting to intertwine their fingers. “Now come show me what you’ve got.”

“Lio, you’re just,” Galo can’t help but mutter, a little bit at loss, as he tugs him close, Lio’s legs circling around his waist when he settles into the triangle of space in front of him. Galo’s free hand finds his favorite spot over Lio’s nape, fingers tangling loosely into his hair. “_Too cool, damn it._”

The last syllables of Lio’s appreciative chuckle in response to that are muffled into their kiss.

It feels different this time, somehow. Less burdensome in a way he can’t rationalize, less restraint after hearing Lio’s assurances. Galo presses against Lio and he lets him, willfully accepting all that he's trying to convey. Their mouths open fervently against each other’s, their breaths and heat mingling. Don’t think, just do what feels right.

They part at some point—Galo's lost track of how long they’ve been at it—with audible gasps of their own. Galo slides his hand from Lio’s nape, smoothing across the curve between his neck and shoulder. _Here_, he remembers Lio saying, and he bends to lean in. Kisses a mindless trail wherever he can reach, featherlight and drawn out. He hears a small noise from Lio before he tilts his chin up and further bares his throat for him in a wordless invitation.

It’s the slight hitches in breath, the quiet moans and unconscious shudders that Lio means when he said he’d let him know. Galo patiently searches, prods and commits each of Lio’s weak spots to memory. A spot close to his right ear, one where his fluttering pulse is most prominent, one close to his Adam’s apple. The corner of his jaw, the hollow of his throat. Even now, he carries a faint scent of roses.

Lio, Galo gradually realizes, seems to be extremely sensitive to gentle, lingering touches. Galo moves his hand lower, finds fabric between Lio’s feverish skin and his own. He leans back, finally looking, finally seeing the fierce flush across Lio’s cheeks, his hair in slight disarray, the hazy desire in his eyes.

Galo’s body reacts on its own; a painful stab in his heart, a pooling of heat.

Lio’s moving before Galo can even say anything, separating their clasped hands to pull his shirt over and off. Galo finds himself staring for a few full seconds before it occurs to him to do the same, tossing the garment aside so it wouldn’t get in the way. This isn’t the first time they’ve seen each other topless, yet the urge to look and admire is irrepressible. Galo takes in the sight of Lio; his skin, once almost sickly pale, is now lightly sun-kissed where his clothes don't often cover, his shoulders broadened from years of labor and training, his once thin arms now lined with lean muscle. Lio had been scrawny when they first met; he’s grown a little taller, sturdier and stronger.

And very much more attractive. Beautiful.

“Galo, I’ll be shy if you keep staring,” Lio humors, though his tone carries a note that mirrors Galo’s sense of awe at the view offered to him. Galo wonders what he sees, what he thinks.

“Can I...?” he asks, his voice coming out unexpectedly choked. He swallows, only now registering the dryness in his throat.

Lio smiles as he drapes his arms languidly over Galo’s shoulders, leaning in so their foreheads touch. “You don’t have t—”

His statement is cut off by a sharp inhale following the sudden brush of Galo’s hands down his sides. He really _is _sensitive, Galo marvels absently with what’s left of his thought capacity that hasn’t already fizzled out into nothingness. His fingertips trace nonsensical patterns across Lio’s skin, over the ridges between each rib, across his tensed belly, down the gentle dip of his waist. Making just the barest contact, occasionally scraping lightly with his nails.

Lio’s reaction to his touch is intense, as though just this is too overwhelming for him. His breathing grows labored, shudders wrecking through his entire body under Galo’s own trembling fingers. Every caress is like an unravelling, sending him jerking, squirming uncontrollably. Lio could only hide his face against Galo’s shoulder, and hang on.

“Lio,” Galo only realizes how much difficulty he too is having to breathe when he speaks. “Let me hear you?”

“Too embarrassing,” Lio grits out, and Galo would've left it at that if it isn’t for the sense of mischief that unexpectedly wells up at Lio’s obstinacy. He moves his hands to Lio’s chest, thumbing the hardened buds he finds there. _Here_, Lio had also said.

A jolt sends Lio grinding against him, once, in an instinctive reaction. Galo grunts, surprised at the sudden contact, at how intense that single motion had felt. At how close to the edge he is when all the stimulation he’s received are Lio’s physical responses.

“Not there,” Lio pleads, despite his body clearly indicating otherwise. “Galo, not there.”

“Why?” Galo stops anyway, restrained by his remaining reluctance to push Lio’s boundaries. He listens as Lio takes several deep, shaking breaths, waits for him to gather the composure he needs to continue.

“I’m...too close.” Galo feels rather than sees Lio’s blush this time, a spread of fire across his skin. “I won’t last if you keep doing that.”

“Then don’t hold back,” Galo tells him, wrinkling his nose when Lio shakes his head and unintentionally tickles his face with his hair.

“I want to reach it with you,” Lio mutters, and _there it is_, Galo thinks with helpless relish. There’s the sentimentality he’s so familiar with, the sappiness that’s pulled at his heartstrings too many times to be legal. He's not free from its effects even now, an arrow shot through his chest, his adoration for Lio peaking to an almost suffocating degree.

“Lio,” he calls, gently urging Lio to face him. Lio takes his time leaning back, head bowed before Galo successfully coaxes him into meeting his gaze.

Their kiss is chaste this time, just a sweet, simple exchange. Galo cups Lio’s cheeks with his palms, and lets out a fond sigh.

“I’m almost there too, firebug,” he says, this time his turn to guide Lio’s hand toward himself. “Let’s finish together.”

He bites back a hiss when Lio’s fingers circle around his arousal, the burst of heat from that alone nearly enough to send him reeling. But Lio doesn’t immediately move, instead sits frozen with his eyes visibly wider than usual as he stares.

“Thank _goodness _we’re not going all the way tonight,” is what he ends up saying, probably not even fully meaning to, and Galo bursts out laughing. It's the first time he’s feeling truly relaxed that night, he realizes.

“We’ll only do it when we’re both ready,” Galo promises, ruffling Lio’s hair and nuzzling his nose. He senses a bit of tension leaving Lio’s shoulders at the gesture, but it immediately reappears when he reaches to take him in hand as well.

They’re both already so close—it doesn’t require much to bring each other to completion. Galo barely has the time to find Lio’s preferred rhythm, the strokes that would gradually render his mind blank with pure sensation—before Lio’s crying out and spilling white heat all over his fingers, Galo’s name upon his lips. Galo follows soon after, driven over the brink by Lio’s clumsy, erratic movements and the sheer intimacy of having Lio this close, having Lio climax to his touch.

Lio’s still trembling when Galo moves to hold his hips, thumbs massaging against bone hoping to help ground him. They’re both breathing hard; Galo’s heartbeat still pounding away in his ears, his skin still tingling and feverish. He doesn’t resist when Lio eventually pulls him in for a kiss, fiery and deep, as though to seal what they’ve done.

They’ve...done it. The disbelief sets in first, followed by the giddiness of absurd intensities that brings tears to Galo’s eyes before he can hold them back. Lio gathers him into an embrace in silent empathy, keeping him close, secure, as they let the emotions swell and pass. Their gradual mutual stripping of boundaries has led to this: a quavering, defenseless core that they each cradle carefully, tenderly.

“Lio, did it—” Galo finds the courage to ask later, once the feelings have calmed enough— “feel good?”

They’re lying side by side, slowly coming down from the high of their release after a brief cleaning up. There’s a sense of amazement in Lio’s gaze when he reaches to trace his fingertips over the line of Galo’s collarbone, the corners of his eyes crinkling over so slightly when he smiles.

“It’s so much better than doing it by myself,” he says, and for now, Galo thinks, is maybe all that should matter. That Lio had enjoyed the moment with him, that he’s still here next to him, warm and content, cheeks still lightly flushed with a wonderful afterglow. “Guess I’ll have to prepare enough for my turn to lead next time. I’ll have you seeing stars by the time we’re done, Galo.”

Lio’s back to his usual demeanor when he makes his declaration, determined and handsomely confident. At that, Galo grins, intertwining their fingers. “I _am _already seeing a star right now, though.”

“Yes, yes, let’s not get into that tonight,” Lio gripes, though still full of indulgent humor. Galo’s grin widens, then fades as he lets the lapse of quiet between them stretch over the minutes, simply basking in the moment where words don’t seem necessary. Their hands loosely interlocked, their breaths calming back to an unhurried rhythm.

_Stay_, Galo had never been able to ask of Lio, had always known he had no right to do so. Lio’s his own person, with his own ambitions and decisions. Yet Galo feels like he’s silently begged for it throughout their exchange, baring this one wish of his that he’s never let himself voice aloud. Don’t keep running off again. Stay with me, please.

Galo sighs as he eases further into the comfort of his bed, limbs heavy as the adrenaline wears off. Lio snuggles closer, leaving just enough space for their hands to remain comfortably held. He lightly squeezes Galo’s fingers, once, like it’s an assurance.

Like it’s Lio’s own silent response, a promise that he’s here, and he won’t be going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: YALL thank you so so much for the 500 kudos!!!!!!!!!! you guys are so amazing aaaa  
if you'd like to t!p me for the tender sapping please have a look at the pinned post on my twt @MintFloss11 !! thank you!!


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